


101 Ways to Kill Steve Rogers: A Guide by Tony Stark

by SuperstringSymphony



Series: 101 Ways To Love Steve Rogers [1]
Category: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon)
Genre: AS OF EPILOGUE:, Angst, Camping, Cookies, Cuddling & Snuggling, Even Doom Knows, Explicit Sexual Content, Get your shit together Tony, Gift Fic, Holiday Shenanigans, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining Steve Rogers, Presumed Death, Resolved Sexual Tension, Reunions, Season 3 and 4 Spoilers, Sharing a Bed, Steve Coping Badly, Team as Family, This is basically a romcom with superheroes, Ultron Can Kiss My Ass, Unresolved Sexual Tension, because Tony is DENSE, but it ends happily, but that comes later, eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-02-16 23:52:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13064790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperstringSymphony/pseuds/SuperstringSymphony
Summary: If someone had told Steven Grant Rogers that one day he would fall for a mouthy super-genius, billionaire who flew an armored suit to fight evil-he might have had a few choice words for them.  That doesn't change the fact that it's true.  He can't really pinpoint the moment it all solidified for him.  Maybe it was before they fractured and came back together, maybe it was while watching Tony punch a dinosaur while wearing obsidian armor-maybe it's always been there just waiting for him to show up looking like that, and talking like that, and smirking in that way of his that makes Steve's stomach swoop.Tony is everything he's ever wanted, and everything he never knew he wanted all in one fascinating and sometimes infuriating package.  He loves him, he wants him, and it all seems doomed because for all Tony flirts, he seems utterly unable to understand that when Steve flirts back it's in the utmost sincerity.  Steve knows Tony is interested, he just can't seem to convince him that the interest is returned and then some.





	1. Longing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dophne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dophne/gifts).



> This is a gift for my beloved friend Dophne, MERRY NUTMAS. To the all of you on the TSDL discord I love yall, you're all amazing! Comments and Kudos are way, way appreciated, and of course if you would like to come scream in my inbox, my [Tumblr](https://ilunabarrean.tumblr.com/) is right this way.
> 
> -Additionally I am aware Jan and Rhodey are not actually in AA, but I've added them because I love them.

long·ing

1.

strong, persistent desire or craving, especially for something unattainable or distant:

_filled with longing for home._

2.

an instance of this:

_a sudden longing to see old friends._

adjective

3.

having or characterized by persistent or earnest desire:

_a longing look._

  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

If someone had told Steven Grant Rogers that one day he would fall for a mouthy super-genius, billionaire who flew an armored suit to fight evil-he might have had a few choice words for them. That doesn't change the fact that it's true. He can't really pinpoint the moment it all solidified for him. Maybe it was before they fractured and came back together, maybe it was while watching Tony punch a dinosaur while wearing obsidian armor-maybe it's always been there just waiting for him to show up looking like that, and talking like that, and smirking in that way of his that makes Steve's stomach swoop.

Tony is everything he's ever wanted, and everything he never knew he wanted all in one fascinating and sometimes infuriating package. He loves him, he wants him, and it all seems doomed because for all Tony flirts, he seems utterly unable to understand that when Steve flirts back it's in the utmost sincerity. Steve _knows_ Tony is interested, he just can't seem to convince him that the interest is returned and then some.

With others there's a laugh on Tony's tongue and a joke at the ready, but when he flirts with Steve it seems different-sincere. So Steve flirts back, cautiously at first, then with increasing brazenness as it becomes wildly apparent that Tony is not going to make the first move. These days it's almost the only thing he can think of. Tony's face in the mornings, Tony's smile, Tony falling asleep in strange places, Tony, Tony, Tony. Steve feels as if he might as well be behind a window staring at something he can see but can't touch.

One morning Tony wanders into the kitchen bleary eyed and sleep mussed, and he looks so soft and warm that Steve can't resist giving him a kiss on the cheek. Tony blinks at him confusedly, a slight rosy flush stretching across the bridge of his nose. He doesn't protest though, so Steve starts making a habit of it; giving Tony a kiss on the cheek first thing in the morning-or whenever Steve sees him first. Sometimes that's the middle of the night, but tradition is tradition. Tony always looks faintly bewildered and pleased by the act, but after a fashion he returns the gesture of affection. Natasha thinks it's the sweetest thing she's ever seen, but she also makes it clear she thinks they're both hopeless. Steve can't really argue with that assessment, but he's _trying._ Tony Stark just might be the only man on earth more stubborn than even him. It's a daunting prospect.

Kisses on the cheek are joined by lingering touches. Tony again seems a bit confused, but he also seems to relish the contact. Steve's hugs are always returned; Tony turning into the affection and warmth like a flower to the sun.

Movie nights become one of Steve's most cherished events because Tony allows him to bundle him close, sometimes he can be coaxed to lay across his lap, where Steve rubs his shoulders, and strokes over his belly like a cat. Some nights Tony is wide awake, doing a million things at once while Steve snuggles him close. Other times he's clearly exhausted, melting into Steve's touches, dozing on and off while movies flicker over the screen. The others are there too, it's true, but Steve enjoys that too-that he doesn't have to hide how he feels for Tony from the team. Even if the man himself can't seem to wrap his head around what Steve is trying to show him.

It's a quiet sort of intimacy, something he never thought he could have after the serum and his long time away from the world. He only wishes Tony understood. _I wish you could see it._ He thinks, as they settle in to watch something Sam picked for this evenings main event.

Tony props his head on Steve's lap while Clint scrolls through their massive movie selection. Hulk has already eaten through a pile of snacks, but he appears to have several more stacks within reach. On the other couch, Jan and Natasha are playing rock paper scissors over the last box of sour candy gummy worms. Thor is singing loudly and off key to Jane over the phone while Sam covers his ears with one hand and tries to hide the box of cookies he snuck into the tower beneath a pillow on his lap.

All in all-he thinks-a normal Avengers movie night.

“You get a lot done today?” He asks quietly once the lights have drawn down and the movie has begun. Tony hums in reply, sighing when Steve slips his fingers into soft dark hair, petting Tony slowly while the screen erupts into an action sequence that has Thor cheering and Jan joining in excitedly.

“Yeah, working on a more streamlined armor, it's a lot of detail work-” Tony yawns, rubbing his face against Steve's leg sleepily. “I'll finish it tomorrow I think, fingers were going numb.” He finishes, sighing when Steve scratches lightly over his scalp.

“What ya got cooking in that brain of yours?” He asks, smiling encouragingly when tony turns onto his back to look up at him.

“They're watching the movie, it's a long explanation, sure you still want to know?” Tony asks, unsure and proud of himself all at once as is his trademark.

“Course I do, just c'mere, closer.” He whispers, urging Tony to scoot up and sit on his lap to whisper armor specs and frighteningly advanced tech ideas into Steve's ear. Half way into the explanation Tony starts rubbing at his own hands, shaking them out, and twisting them together in a clear expression of soreness.  “Keep talking, you need these in working order hand them over.”

Tony snickers at the pun, but doesn't bat an eye as Steve takes one long fingered hand between his own; pressing it between his palms, and slowly working at the tension he finds. Tony's hands are well kept but covered in tiny scars from years of work. The palms are broad, still narrower and smaller than his own, but undoubtedly strong. Steve knows these hands by heart, he's sketched them so many times they could almost be his own, and he's never looked at his own hands with such attention to detail.

“S'nice.” Tony murmurs when Steve starts on his other hand, dropping his head down onto one of Steve's broad shoulders.

“Yeah, you like it?” He asks, pleased he's made Tony feel good.  Tony flushes a little in response, rubbing his cheek against the fabric of Steve's shirt.

“Always like your hands on me Cap.” The cheeky little grin makes Steve feel like he might be going mad.

“I'd like to put my hands all over you, but that's not something fit for present company.” Maybe it's bold and over the top, but some sad part of him just knows Tony won't believe his complete sincerity on the matter. As if reading the direction of his thoughts, Tony laughs, slipping his hands away from Steve's to swoon across his lap in a pantomime of a faint.

“Ravish me Captain Rogers, I can't take it anymore.” Tony says, voice high as Steve lets him use his arm for support so he doesn't topple onto the floor.

“God I want to.” Steve says with feeling, catching Jan's sympathetic gaze and sighing morosely.

“Get a room!” Clint cat-calls, tossing a piece of popcorn at Steve. He catches it, and Tony laughs delightedly, sitting up to curl against Steve, throwing an arm over his shoulder and wrinkling his nose in Clint's direction.

“We will, but you better take your hearing aides out or you might regret telling us that. Isn't that right Cap?” Steve feels his face heat with the images that conjures. He pulls Tony a little more tightly against himself, trying to adjust his train of thought into something that doesn't involve Tony and a bed.

“Quiet Shellhead, think of the children.” He says, angling his chin in Sam's direction.

“Yeah okay, okay.” Tony grumbles, but the smile on his face is wide, genuine. A few beats of silence pass, before Tony's lips brush against his ear again.  “You want to hear the rest of my projects?” Tony asks almost shyly. Steve smiles, tilting his head to show he's listening.

“Of course, tell me all about them.” He murmurs, listening intently as Tony begins detailing the invention of a new material. Steve nods along, rubbing Tony's hands again, then slipping his hand beneath his shirt to stroke over his stomach once Tony has relaxed and gone soft and sleepy as the night goes on. Tony's jaw cracks on a yawn, lids drooping tiredly when Steve turns his head to rub his cheek against Tony's.

“Think I need to go sleep.”

“Really, Tony Stark sleeping, what a novel concept.” Steve grins at Tony's affronted little grunt.

“Let me up you big patriotic octopus or I'm gonna-” Tony yawns so widely his eyes water. “gonna fall asleep on you. You won't like me when I'm sleepy.”

“Sure thing Shellhead, but I like you all the time.” Steve knows Tony won't take him seriously, but that won't stop him from trying.  Sure enough, Tony looks away, a soft self deprecating laugh falling from his lips as he gets to his feet.

“Right, yeah, of course, who wouldn't like me?” He's turning away before Steve can reel him back in.

“Night guys.” Tony waves, looking back over his shoulder at Steve; something like longing nests beneath his lashes. “Goodnight Steve.” He says, soft, cautious, and then he's gone, off to bed where he'll likely wake up at four in the morning to burn the candle at both ends again.

“Goddammit.” Steve groans, dropping his head into his hands. Jan comes over to sit next to him, patting his shoulder in sympathy.

 

 


	2. A Distinct Feeling of Impending Doom

The next time they get called out to a fight it's at the crack of dawn. The sun is just making its way over the horizon, casting long fingers of light across the city. It would be a poetic sight if they weren't currently engaged in a battle royale with one Doctor Doom. High above them Tony is swearing up a blue streak and shooting off repulsor blasts while Hawkeye uses scattershot arrows to hamper the movement of the swarm of tiny insect-like robots currently infesting central park.

“So, no coffee yet, or you haven't gotten the chance to go to bed?” Steve asks over the comms, tossing his shield to take out a row of bots. Tony grunts, laying down cover fire so Widow can back-flip across the ground towards Doom's monologueing figure. 

“I can't believe I got woken up for this.” Tony grouches, circling at a wider distance as Thor begins gathering his lightening.

“Definitely a no on the coffee then.  Feeling grumpy Shellhead?” A Tony without coffee is truly a terrifying thing, or a sad thing, depending on whether or not he slept the night before.

“No.” Tony pauses, hovering above Steve. A fresh swarm of Doom bugs breaks off to make a beeline towards them both.

“Okay yes. I'm fucking pissed now”

“Let's take care of this and I'll take you to that place you like with the espresso and the spumoni, what do you think?” The clang of his shield slamming through another wave of bugs rings through his ears, but he ignores it in favor of looking up at Tony-catching his shield without looking when it spins back on the rebound

“I've never seen someone that likes frozen sweets as much as you Cap-but I'm surprised you want spumoni, would have thought it would be butter pecan ice cream.”  Tony says, sounding fondly amused.  Steve  _does_ love butter pecan, but that's not what this conversation is about.

“Yeah well, gotta branch out sometimes, 'sides, _you_ love spumoni. Want to take you to get something you like.”  That seems to give Tony pause.  

“Oh. Well okay then, twist my arm. I guess I can go have treats with my favorite.”

“Hey!” Clint says suddenly. “I thought I was your favorite.”

“Jan is his favorite.” Widow says, jumping out of the way as Hulk goes charging by to tackle doom to the ground. Dirt and grass flies up everywhere, Doom's cry is loud in the park, Steve has a feeling their early morning workout will be coming to an end soon-no matter how much Doom is ranting to the contrary.

“You're all my favorite, I love all of my children equally, Sam-” Sam flies by with a whoop.

“Natasha, Hulk, Jan, my occasional child Underoos, Thor, and-” Tony stops to look at his hand as if he has something written on it. “Clont.”

“You fucking suck, Stark.” Clint says testily.

“I do, like a pro, you wish you had firsthand experience Katniss.”  Suggestion drips off of Tony's words, and Steve tries not to think about that overmuch. His pants are tight enough after most things that get the adrenaline flowing without adding the thought of Tony's potentially very talented mouth to the list.

“Wait, you didn't mention Cap in that list.” Sam says, all of them have stopped to watch Hulk toss a screaming Doom around like a rag-doll.

“That.” Tony says, seemingly polishing his armored nails on the chestplate. “Is because Cap is my co-parent. Obviously.  Sam, I thought you knew this.” The other Avengers nod as if this makes perfect sense. Steve sighs, rubbing a hand over his face and smiling despite himself.  “Hulk, try not to give Doom too severe of a concussion please, SHIELD still needs to pick him up.” Tony calls, Hulk pauses, picking a Doom up by the ankle and holding him out like an unpleasantly wet sock.

“Puny Doom, still want to smash.” Hulk is looking distinctly pouty.

“Listen to your father.” Steve says, grinning when that draws a choked laugh from Tony.

A few moments later they clamp power dampener cuffs on Doom, the villain seems almost relieved to be out of the Hulk's grasp. He's sitting on the floor, shaking his head as if to clear it when Tony comes sauntering over; an enticing sway in his step that translates even with his body encased in metal. Steve tracks his path over with rapt attention, gaze drawing up to the faceplate when Tony flips it back to smile at him, brown eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Where's my good morning kiss Mister Universe?” Tony asks, coming right up into Steve's space-close enough that Steve can feel the slight heat shearing off the armor in waves.

“Come and get it Shellhead.” Steve reaches out to draw him closer, cupping Tony's face between his palms and kissing his cheeks, the tip of his nose, and finally the almost dimples at the corner of Tony's lips. Tony doesn't move throughout the whole thing, his eyes go wide at first, but then drop shut, face flaming with an endearing flush. Tony's arms are loose at his sides, hands opening and closing as if he doesn't know what to do with them. Steve is suddenly uncomfortably aware of the fact that Doom is just behind them, staring at them both intently. He pulls back from Tony, slipping his hands away from his face and stepping back.

“Um. Wow.” Tony chokes out, brown eyes wide and shocked when they finally open again. “Good morning to you too-I've got to go...debrief. Need to. Rhodey's calling.” Tony stutters out, staggering off towards the Avenjet almost at a run. Steve watches him go with a deep frown.

“It is good to see the two of you have finally-oh, what is that quaint American saying? Gotten your heads' out of your asses it was.” Doom snipes, but he sounds almost sincere. Steve just sighs as if the weight of the world rests on his shoulders. Doom ignores him, carrying on as if Steve isn't looking increasingly agitated with each word.

“And I have won the bet, as I knew I would, It's almost worth it to see that mad skull if only to collect.” Steve crosses his arms over his chest, glaring down at Doom.

“We're not together.” The words sound dredged out of him. Doom stares at him as if he's the dimmest bulb in a not particularly gifted shed.

“Oh this is unacceptable. How, explain.” Doom's tone reminds him a little of a teacher scolding a student who just failed a softball of a test.  Steve pinches the bridge of his nose for patience.

“We're not together. Romantically.”

“I find that hard to believe, it is obvious that Stark is wowed by your charms, meager and pitiful as they are.” The words drip with haughty disdain.  Steve's eyes narrow.

“Yeah well, these meager charms popped you right in the kisser, so watch yourself.” Doom looks incredibly unimpressed, staring him down as if he really can't believe what Steve is saying. “It's not for lack of trying, he's so stubborn! I don't know what to do!” Steve cries, throwing his arms up. Doom tsks under his breath.

“How delightfully sad you are, how frustrated. Hmm, I shall take pity on you, my people tell me I am quite charming.” Doom shifts on the ground, pointedly ignoring Steve's disbelieving snort to look up at Steve contemplatively.

“Have you perhaps considered kidnapping him? Whisk him away, show him your _power_ in private. Surely those freakishly large mutated arms of yours are good for something other than ruining my beautiful plans.” Steve looks down at his own arms critically, before shaking his head. He must be desperate if he's even entertaining this ridiculous conversation.

“I am _not_ going to kidnap Tony. That is the absolute last thing of all things I would do to Tony Stark-don't you _know_ what happens to people who kidnap him?” Tony can be soft, sweet and welcoming, but the man _is_ an Avenger, and he got out of Afghanistan by putting a reactor in his chest and burning a swath of destruction through the desert. Tony's tenacity is one of the many things on the long list of reasons as to why he loves him-not to mention the whole 'kidnapping is morally abhorrent' aspect of the suggestion.

“Insolence, cowardice! This is why you will never have him, I am sad for you Captain.”

“Why is Doom sad for you? Are you dying?” Tony says, having apparently decided to return to Steve's side.

“I thought erroneously that the two of you were engaged in an affair, but the Captain tells me that is incorrect. I was merely expressing my sympathies that such a talented and beautiful man has slipped through his meaty incapable fingers.”

“Shut _up_ Doom.” Steve growls, stepping between Tony and Doom, blocking the red and gold armor from view.

“Jealousy. How ugly. Come Stark, you know SHIELD cannot hold me long, and when I am released perhaps we can come to an arrangement, I would so like to have a man of your looks and _skill_ by my side, as you appear to be unclaimed at the present.”

“Oh my god.” Tony says faintly from behind him. “No one is _claiming_ me Doom. What. What the hell?”

“Oh? Not even the Captain of America, should he make the offer in sincerity?” Steve can _hear_ the smirk on Doom's face even if he can't see it.

SHIELD picks that moment to show up-late as usual, but Steve has never been so happy to see agents swarming across the park towards them. Doom can't be carted off soon enough, he's already said too much if the thoughtful expression on Tony's face is anything to go by.

“Think about what I said. I would drape you in the finest silks, bathe you in milk and honey.” Doom purrs, even as he's being dragged away. Steve feels a wave of possessive anger rise up within himself, even if he knows it's pointless and unwelcome to feel such a way about a man who isn't his, who will probably _never_ be his. Tony seems to be stunned speechless for once, but he turns towards Steve once Doom is safely within SHIELD custody.

“Well. That happened.” Says Tony bemusedly. Steve grunts, still glaring in the direction of the carriers.

“Steve.”

“Steve are you...” Tony trails off when their eyes meet. He shakes his head, muttering something Steve just _knows_ is self deprecating to himself.  “Nevermind. Just so you know though, I am not going to go play courtesans and kings with ol' Doomey Woomey. I only have eyes for you.” The words are teasing, but Tony's gaze is soft when he comes to stand beside Steve, giving his left arm an affectionate squeeze.

“Feeling's mutual babydoll.” Steve shoots back, reaching out to crush Tony against his chest; armor and all. Tony squawks with affront, wiggling in his embrace to extricate his arms where Steve has pinned them to his sides.

“Hey, hey, leggo, stoppit! You're a brute, I can't believe-” But Tony is laughing as Steve picks his feet off the ground and swings him around. It's a joyful sound, rare and completely worth the metal fingers prodding at his ribs.

“Still want that espresso?” Steve asks when he sets Tony down again.

“Fuck yes.” Tony practically moans out. Steve feels the tips of his ears go a little hot. It's all too easy to imagine those words in a _different_ context.  “I'm always a slut for coffee and spumoni.” Tony says dreamily, grabbing Steve's wrist and all but dragging him towards a waiting car.

Steve would bet dollars to donuts that Happy is behind the wheel. The other Avengers are grouped off to the side watching them. Steve mouths a quick _where have you all been_ in Clint's direction, and gets a very rude hand gesture accompanied by Clint signing out ' _Giving Dad and Captain Dad some alone time_.' Steve thinks the gesture that follows that is definitely not standard ASL. Clint's probably just sore because he lost the betting pool again.

“C'mon babe, your chariot awaits.” Tony says, half out of the car as the armor peels away from him and rockets back towards the tower.

“Yeah I'm coming. Can we make whoopee in the car?” Steve asks, knowing full well that Tony will get a kick from the out of date slang. Sure enough he's giggling when Steve slides into the back seat with him.

“Is that a verb, a noun, or an adjective, old man?” Tony asks, turning in his seat and throwing his legs over Steve's knees.

“Dunno, you're the one who knows everything.” Steve says with a grin, reaching up to knead over the tense muscles of Tony's thighs; flushing slightly when Tony groans, and all but melts back into the plush leather behind him.

“Contrary to popular belief I don't actually know _everything._ ” Tony admits somewhat grudgingly. Steve can't help the wide smile that stretches across his face-even if Tony scowls in anticipation of his next words.

“Can I get that in writing.”

“Cute, you think you're so cute, don't you?” Tony's little frown is _adorable._ Steve wants to sketch it.

“Nah, that's you, I'm just the muscle of the operation.” Steve says, wrapping his hands around Tony's right calf and drawing his fingers down towards the sharp jut of his ankle, slipping his fingers just beneath the hem of his jeans to rest against warm skin. Tony is watching him through half open eyes, but his glance darts away when Steve makes eye contact.

Steve drops his ankle, unbuckling his seatbelt to crawl up between Tony's slightly spread thighs. They fall apart a little further to make room for the breadth of Steve's body, Tony's head tipping up when Steve leans over him.

“Uh, Steve, I think. I think we're here.” Tony says more than a little breathlessly.  Steve sits up, looking out the window to the the cheerful signage of Tony's favorite coffee shop.

“Yeah, let's not take up the fire lane.” Steve concedes, drawing away from Tony as Happy comes around to open the door for them.

“Sorry, sorry, if I would have known I'd have made another circle round the block.” Happy says when Tony has trotted off towards the cafe in search of what he had once called his one true love.

“It's fine Happy, probably wouldn't have panned out anyway.” Steve squares his shoulders, and follows Tony's path; sliding into a booth with him to listen to the many and exciting different kinds of roasts, syrups, and styles of coffee the cafe offers. Steve himself likes the plain drip coffee, but after traveling around Europe for a while he learned a healthy appreciation for the little shots of espresso and the full bodied richness of a well made cappuccino. That and, anything that Tony enjoys this much is reason enough to pay attention.

After their coffees and sweets have come, Steve reaches across the table to take Tony's hand in his. Tony just smiles warmly, passing over his phone to show Steve a few new revisions on his tactical suit. Steve brushes his thumb over Tony's knuckles and soaks it all in. Even if they're not together, quiet moments like these remind Steve of why this century isn't so bad after all.

 


	3. Pillow Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nutmas continues! Onward to the obligatory bed-sharing chapter  
> As always, your comments and kudos give life to my tiny little grinch heart.  
> AND A MILLION THANKS to [Kelslk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelslk/works) for the art in this chapter.

  
The first time they share a bed it's a bit of an accident. A mission calls for them to camp out in the Arizona desert, far from any towns or reasonable camp sites. Why Asgardian's love popping up in desolate areas Steve will never know-it's not as if they're hiding their presence any longer. Still Thor was adamant that his friend would be arriving sooner rather than later, so they set up to wait.

That is how all of the Avengers, save for the Hulk-who stays in the tower much to Tony's obvious distress-end up sleeping in the Avenjet. It's too hot during the day, and cold at night, the Avenjet suits their purposes nicely. On the first night they sleep in hammocks in the cargo bay, but Jan soon deems this unacceptable. Twenty minutes and several miracles later she and Tony have covered a section of the floor in pillows and blankets. It looks inviting and homey all at once; strangely not out of place in the belly of the jet.

“That's much better, I've got dibs on the right side!” Jan calls, launching herself into the pillow pile with a whoop of glee. The other Avengers soon follow-Clint being tossed in with a shriek when he expresses distaste for the flowery blanket on his side of the pillows. When everyone has settled, just one spot large enough for two remains open. Thor gives him a thumbs up and a very obvious wink, luckily Tony is turned away, slipping out of his armor to walk around the cargo bay in the flightsuit that has filled many of Steve's imaginings.

“Tired yet Shellhead?” He calls, picking his way across the pillows after slipping his boots and gloves off. The bulk of the suit stays on however-just in case, but he pulls the cowl down, shaking his hair out of his eyes as he stretches out on the pillows. Off to the left Jan giggles.

“Tony-” She sing songs. “Tony come sleep, plus I think Cap wants to discuss some uh...some training stuff! Yeah, some training stuff, he's got lots to talk about.” Steve blinks over at her grinning face.

“Oh yeah?” Tony turns around, leaning his hip against a console near the edge of the room. Steve tries and fails not to give him a slow, lingering once over. Tony just preens, posing against the console in a way that should be ridiculous, but instead makes Steve want to bend him over. Tony stark will be the death of him.

“Yeah, I need to talk to you about-” He rifles through his Rolodex of villain names. “Crossbones, last time we fought him, something bothered me.” Tony's eyebrows shoot up, but he walks closer, stepping over pillows and Avengers as he goes. Natasha's head pops up from her pillow, and she shifts the pillow just beneath Tony's feet to send him toppling over.

“Oh hey wha-” Tony flails, but Steve is there before any elbows can hit groins. He catches Tony in something that might be reminiscent of a bridal carry, and Tony starts laughing, looping an arm around Steve's neck and snuggling close.

“Gonna carry me over the threshold cap? Lay me on your bed? I've probably got some white lacy bridal lingerie somewhere.” Steve feels like his brain might go offline for a moment while he pictures what that would look like. Steve has a _very_ visual imagination.

“You sure it should be white?” He fires back, once he talks his body down a bit. 

“What are you trying to say Rogers, are you besmirching my reputation?” Tony says with a grin, prodding at Steve's chest with one finger.  Steve snorts, letting Tony down onto the pillows and then stretching out beside him, propping himself up on one elbow to watch Tony shift around on their makeshift bed.

“Nah.” He murmurs, reaching out to brush dark hair away from covering Tony's eyes.  “Just think you'd look better in red.” He pauses, eyes sliding over Tony's body thoughtfully. “Or maybe blue. Always thought you'd look pretty in blue.” Tony chokes, shoulders shaking with laughter. Steve sighs, he wonders if stripping naked and showing up on Tony's bed would work. Nothing else seems to be doing the trick.

“Sure Cap, I'll add blue to my repertoire, just for you.” Tony simpers, batting his lashes ostentatiously in Steve's direction. This close he can see each individual lash-the dark frame of them casting shadows over warm brown irises.  “So, what's this about Crossbones anyway?” Tony whispers, interrupting Steve's intense scrutinization of his face.

“I noticed something-” Steve starts, and Tony scoots a little closer, listening intently as Steve maps out his observations. He interjects now and then, but for the most part seems content to hear him out. Their foreheads are pressed together; blue arclight casting a chilly glow over the space between their bodies. Steve only quiets when he notes that Tony is shivering slightly. The rest of the Avengers are deep asleep; slow even breaths fill the space, it looks like only he and Tony are still awake.

“You cold Tony?”

“Little bit, don't sweat it Steve, I've slept in much worse, I'll just have JARVIS turn on the heat. Or okay-okay yeah we can do that too.” Tony cuts off when Steve pulls him in close, winding his arms around Tony's body.

“Helps?” Steve murmurs, smiling slightly when Tony burrows closer, tucking his arms in between their bodies and all but curling up against him. Steve hums, rubbing his palms over the smooth material covering Tony's back. Their faces are so close, mere inches separating them across a cheerfully patterned pillow.

“Yeah, you're warm Steve, like a furnace or something, it's wow, no wonder you go exercise in those obscene little shorts.” Steve purses his lips. His shorts are _not_ obscene. He just doesn't understand what everyone in this century seems to have against men's thighs.

“Go to sleep Tony, you're tired.” He grumbles, wrapping one arm a little more tightly around the warm well muscled body pressed against his.  Tony laughs, but his eyes drop shut with a soft huff of breath when Steve runs his fingers through his hair.

“Yeah okay, mhmmm...going, doing that.” Tony's words drop off sleepily.  Steve feels him shiver in response to his gentle light touches, but he doesn't comment, content for now to rub between strong shoulder-blades, until Tony is nuzzling his chest sleepily and his breaths even out as he drops off.

Steve watches him for a little while, stroking over soft hair and smooth cheekbones. “What am I doing wrong?” He whispers. Tony doesn't answer, but he does mumble in his sleep, turning into the contact of Steve's palm.

Soon after that Steve finally falls asleep too.

In the morning he wakes on his back with Tony sprawled across his chest. Somewhere in the jet he hear Natasha and Clint bickering. He's never slept through the team moving around, always up and alert the moment one of them wakes-but not this morning. Steve is often cold, even if he knows it's probably all in his head, but he's warm this morning with Tony laying atop him radiating heat.

 

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/138450344@N04/28450893218/in/dateposted-public/)

 

“Mmf..rocket...rocket skates..” Tony mutters from atop him, yawning and rubbing at his eyes, and Steve suddenly realizes the reason his hands are so warm is because they're cradling Tony's round behind. Steve very slowly slides them upwards to rest on Tony's back-but even just woken Tony is still Tony.

“Copping a feel huh Cap, didn't know you were the type.” Tony says gleefully.  Steve groans in response, dropping his head back on the pillows.

“Shaddup, let's get breakfast smart guy.”

“You didn't even buy me dinner first, I'm appalled.” Tony snarks, but he's rolling to his feet, grabbing Steve's hand to haul him up as he goes.

“You want dinner, how about Patsy's when we get back?” Steve loves Patsy's Pizza, it's been around since he was a kid, and it doesn't seem to have changed all that much. Sometimes when he goes in there he feels like he almost might be back in the forties-well if he ignores all the people milling around, but it's still nice on days he's feeling nostalgic.

“Sure Cap, it's a date, I'll even put out after.” Tony says with a wink. Steve just snorts, following him over to the rest of their friends to join in throwing some food together. _If only._

 

 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 The second time they share a bed it's more an act of strategy on Steve's part than a happy accident. Maybe he might take advantage of the fact that Tony seems willing to follow him on most wild-hairs, maybe it's just simple desperation. Either way he talks Tony into another camping trip-citing the disaster that was their last time in the Savage Land as reason for his sudden desire to go be outdoorsy. Tony huffs and complains duly, but eventually agrees to his demands once it becomes evident that it's something of a nostalgia trip for Steve.

Steve is loading up the saddlebags with supplies when Tony comes striding in, talking a mile a minute to what sounds like Pepper on his earpiece. The others have already left, how they fit Hulk into Natasha's flying car he will never know, but he appreciates that it means Tony had called dibs on riding with Steve.

“Tell Bill I said Windows blows when you see him for me will you? What-aw Pepper, you never let me have any fun.” Tony grins at Steve, blowing a kiss in his direction, staring in shock when Steve blows one back.

“I've...gotta go Pep. Call me if anything urgent pops up. Yeah don't worry, Cap is coming, he'll make sure nothing bad happens-he's responsible.” Tony's grin widens when Pepper takes that for the obvious lie it is.  “Oh ye of little faith, I can't believe you think Captain America is reckless.” From the sounds of it, Pepper is laughing in fond exasperation.  Steve snorts, throwing a leg over his bike and holding a helmet out to Tony.

“Okay, bye for real now, there's a big blond hunk on a motorcycle I have to see about.” Tony's eyes glitter with amusement, he taps his ear to end the call, taking the helmet and strapping it in place with a few deft movements.

“Don't objectify me Tony.” Steve says, patting the seat behind him. Tony laughs, hopping onto the motorcycle and immediately pressing close, arms wrapping around Steve's waist. The press of his body is warm, as is the cheek he leans against Steve's shoulder.

“Gun it soldier, I have a bet with Barton that we'll make it before noon.” Tony says against his shoulder, arms tightening around Steve's waist when he kicks down the starter and the engine roars to life beneath them.

“Oh well, if it's a bet then.” Steve says, tucking himself down and launching out of the garage with a screech of tires on polished concrete. Tony whoops with laughter, warm and snug behind him as the bike eats up pavement and they cut through traffic at a speed just shy of reckless. Or it would be reckless without Steve's reflexes. Tony just urges him on, gleeful and more carefree than he usually ever is. Steve doesn't stop grinning until they make it out of the city limits, and the road stretches out in front of them in a long ribbon of pavement.

“You know, if you ever quit your day job you'd make a great race-car driver.” Tony yells over the wind, Steve laughs, dropping one hand down to rub over Tony's forearm, giving his wrist a squeeze.

“Well, hold onto your faceplate Shellhead, we have a bet to win.” 

They end up making it in an hour and a half, Clint has a fit when they arrive at the campsite, but gamely agrees to the the terms of the bet once he's done throwing himself on the ground. Tony is bright eyed and windswept, all but dancing into Steve's space to gloat about their victory. His lips are reddened by the wind, Steve's eyes zero in on them, and he's coming closer, wrapping an arm around Tony's waist, pulling him close. Tony blinks, throwing his arms around Steve's neck seemingly without a second thought. To the right he hears Natasha grumbling something that sounds like 'just kiss him already' He wants to turn to her and tell her he's _tried_ that-every morning even. Tony can be astoundingly obtuse sometimes as it turns out.

“Why are we camping in the woods Steven, you know I could have rented us a cabin right?” Tony mutters, all big brown eyes and imploring gaze. Steve is almost moved, but he has a plan for tonight.

“Oh I do know that, but this is about us working as a team, and camping like this can be pretty relaxing too don't you think?” Steve pauses for effect, putting on his most sincere 'trust me' expression.  “Besides, I miss camping like this, low tech and easy. C'mon do an old soldier a solid?” Maybe the sad expression on his own face is overkill, but it seems to work. Tony sags against him-laying his head on Steve's shoulder, nosing against the side of Steve's neck. Clint is muttering 'oh my god' repeatedly beneath his breath. Steve agrees.

“That. Is not fair.” Tony whines, grumbling when Steve hugs him tight and kisses his cheek, then kisses his cheek a few more times.  “Okay! Okay fine! You've... _convinced_ me, still not fair though.” He grouches, extricating himself from Steve's arms and pointing accusingly. “Help me put up the tent though, I refuse to do this alone.”

“Anything for you Sweetheart.” Steve grins at Tony innocently when the expected glare is leveled in his direction, but Tony's face soon dissolves into a little moue of sorrow when he seems to realize he's played directly into Steve's hands. He grouches and grumbles the entire time they set up the tent, but still seems content to sit next to Steve around the fire while they roast marshmallows and Thor tells some of his much anticipated Tales of Valorous Deeds.

As the night goes on it gets chillier, until Steve pulls Tony up onto his lap, wrapping them both up in a blanket in front of the crackling fire. Tony settles against him easily, letting Steve rub his hands to warm them up, blushing just slightly when Steve kisses over his knuckles.  Steve watches his face, catching and holding eye contact as he kisses each of Tony's fingers.  They twitch in his grasp, but Tony doesn't pull away, even as he shifts closer and runs his free hand over the planes of Steve's chest.  It's clear he doesn't really realize what he's doing though, so Steve releases his hand to pick up his hanger, fishing the final marshmallow from their bag and setting about roasting the little ball of gooey napalm.

“This is the last marshmallow, you want it?” Steve asks, gingerly pulling the slightly charred confection from his wire hanger-it's nice to see some things don't change.

“Oh, you sure you don't want it?” Tony asks, turning to look at Steve.

“Nope, I'm all marshmallowed out, this one's for you.” Steve glances up briefly, catching Natasha pantomiming feeding and eating motions, she gives him a thumbs up when he brings the sweet right up to Tony's lips. Brown eyes flick up to his, but Tony accepts the marshmallow, letting Steve feed it to him slowly, licking the sticky sweet from Steve's fingers and his own lips when he's done. It takes everything in Steve's power not to groan with the feeling of that warm, wet mouth on his skin. The term 'hard enough to pound nails' comes to mind. Steve hopes Tony can't feel it, seated atop him as he is.

“Delicious, thank you Steve.” Tony murmurs. Steve nods dumbly, unable to speak for the next few minutes while tony settles against him and snuggles close.

By the time they all start shuffling off to sleep Steve has calmed somewhat. Or at least enough to walk around without hunching over. He takes the rainflap off the top of the tent, rolling it up and securing it with the thin Velcro straps along the side of the tent.

“This tent looks kind of...small.” Tony says, standing in front of the zipped entrance and eyeing it critically. “Sure you don't want a cabin? There's still time.” Tony sighs at Steve's decisive head-shake, unzipping the tent and clambering inside. Steve sees the moment he realizes there's only one sleeping bag through the mesh covering the top of the tent.

“Uh Steve, I think we forgot my sleeping bag.”

“Huh. Guess we'll have to share. Mine is big enough for two people anyway.” He feigns abashment, hoping he's put enough regret in his tone to not be as transparent as a window.  Tony just stares at him when he joins him in the tent.  “Unless it makes you uncomfortable, in that case you can take it and I'll go grab a blanket from Natasha's car.” Steve offers, mindful of Tony potentially not being on-board with this sleeping arrangement despite previous suggestions of the contrary.

“No it's fine Steve, not like we haven't slept together before.” The devious grin on Tony's face suggests he knows exactly what sort of innuendo he's just made.

“Yeah well I don't like to assume.” Says Steve, helping Tony flatten the sleeping bag out over the cushion beneath it.

“Such a gentleman, as always.” Tony smiles, sliding into the sleeping bag and shifting around to grab a pillow, smacking it into shape before jamming it under his neck. Steve joins him shortly thereafter, slipping in behind him with a pillow of his own. It's quiet outside, night birds chirping distantly. Tony turns onto his back, then his stomach, then onto his back again, grumbling equations and rubbing at his chest. Oh. Steve thinks. The arc reactor must be bothering him. It's easy to forget that the life saving device probably isn't the most comfortable thing to live with. Tony never complains about it, and Steve feels suddenly terrible for never asking about it.

“Here.” He murmurs, turning Tony on his side and spooning up behind him, slipping a hand under Tony's shirt to cover the arc.  “It gets cold right?” He whispers against Tony's ear.  Tony's breath stutters, head turning to watch Steve over his shoulder. He's quiet, but Steve hears the cadence of his breathing pick up when he slips his other hand beneath his neck to cup the strong cut of his jaw. The angle is perfect for a kiss Steve realizes. Their faces are so close he can see the vast canopy of stars above them reflected in Tony's dark eyes.

“Yes.” Tony says, covering Steve's hand over the arc with one of his own. “It does get cold. But you'll keep me warm right?” His smile is slightly brittle.

“Yeah Shellhead, 'course I will.”

“Captain America, biggest superhero ever, also part time space heater for Tony Stark, who would have thought.” Tony says; the smile on his face stretching into something real and fond now.

“I don't think I'm the biggest superhero Tony.” Steve says with fond amusement.  Tony seems to be thinking that over.

“Muscle-iest then.” He offers, eyes sparkling playfully.  Steve chuckles, rubbing his thumb over Tony's jaw.

“Nah, pretty sure both Thor and Hulk take that cake easy.” Steve doesn't find the admission difficult, it's not as if he's insecure, despite Hulk thinking everything is an excuse for a competition-usually a very destructive one at that.

“You know what else is easy, and you could definitely take?” Tony says, gaze dropping with a flutter of long dark lashes. Steve feels his mouth go dry when Tony shifts against him, hips pressing back. “Me. I'm so easy cap.” Tony's eyebrows are waggling and Steve feels like his whole life has been one long descent into losing control of this situation.

“Easy is not a word I would associate with you.” Steve chokes out.

“Hulk trying to sleep, be quiet!” Comes the sudden bellow, both of them jump. Steve hears the other Avengers hissing various invectives at Hulk, but it's too late, the moment is broken. _Fuck_. Steve thinks morosely. Steve has the sneaking suspicion their conversation was being listened in to, but he has no way of proving it.

“Guess we better sleep.” Tony says from beside him, turning to lay his head fully on his pillow.

“Yeah, guess so, we're going fishing in the morning.” Steve murmurs against Tony's ear.

“Ugh fishing. Okay okay, I can hear your disappointment in my lack of excitement. I'll be up bright and early to go with you.” Tony harrumphs when Steve kisses his cheek in thanks. Maybe the trip wasn't a complete success, but spending time with Tony is its own reward.

He sleeps well that night, wrapped around Tony under the sky, the arc pulsing under his hands like the heart of a trapped star.

 


	4. Jingle Bells, Batman Smells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are holiday shenanigans, and a wee bit of that good ol' Tony Stark Angst. Also, so. much. snuggling. You have been warned, this is a fluff-in.

December in New York usually means cold weather, and this December is no different. Steve wakes to the sight of icy white falling outside his window. The floor is warm and heated when he swings his legs out of bed and walks over to his closet to pull on warmer clothes. Even if the cold doesn't affect him the way it once did, old habits die hard.

The hallways are calm and silent, the reason soon becoming apparent when he steps out onto the tower's party deck to find all of the Avengers outside watching the snowfall. All of the Avengers except Tony that is. Steve scans the deck and finally spots him through the windows-he's on a ladder in one of the atriums decorating the biggest blue spruce Steve has ever seen outside of Times square. Huge gold and silver garlands wrap around it, the topper is-Steve blinks-something that looks like his shield.

“Go get your boyfriend, he's been in there all alone for I don't know how long decorating that giant thing.” Natasha says as she passes him with a mug of steaming hot chocolate.

“Don't start. I'm trying Nat.”

“We know, it's kind of sad.” She says, patting his hand consolingly.  Steve sighs, shaking his head, but gamely going back inside to stand just behind the ladder. Tony is in a pair of green leggings covered in candy canes, a red sweater with tiny red and green versions of his shield, and a headband with reindeer antlers. He should look silly, and he does, but Steve finds the getup endearing.

“Hey smart guy.” He calls up to their apparent holiday elf.  Tony jumps, head whipping around to stare down at Steve.

“Steve, good morning!” Tony is usually not this enthusiastic about daylight, but he supposes it has something to do with the fact that over the past few weeks the tower has been looking more and more festive.

“Come down here, watch the snow with me, you're the only one not out there, wouldn't want you to miss it.”

“I'm decorating, Steven, unless-” Tony pauses, fixing Steve with a contemplative glance, but Steve beats him to the punch.

“We'll help you decorate it. That's a big tree, wouldn't want you to have to do it all alone.”  He says, offering tony an encouraging smile. Tony's smile in return is brilliant, and Steve holds his arms out, motioning his favorite fella down. He gets his wish, and an armful of warm snuggly genius when Tony jumps into his arms a few ladder steps from the bottom. Catching him takes barely any effort at all, and is completely worth it when he gets a tight hug for his heroics.  “Good morning Tony.” He murmurs, setting Tony down and kissing his cheek. Tony flushes a little, darting in to give him one in return.

Outside it's cold, but Tony stands close, lets Steve put an arm around his waist while they watch the snow building up along skyscrapers. The city still isn't quiet-New York City never really is-but the snow brings a certain stillness that rain just can't replicate. Tony is silent for a while, turning into Steve's chest and warming his nose against his neck.

“You wanna go ice skating? The ponds are all frozen over.” Steve asks, trying and failing not to jump when Tony slips his cold hands under the back of Steve's sweater for warmth. Tony hums, leaning back in Steve's arms to fix him with a slightly suspicious stare.

“This isn't going to be a training exercise is it? You're not going to tackle me on the ice right, because that would be mean.” Tony sounds just a little suspicious.  Steve laughs, pulling him in a little more tightly.

“No, no training, just wanna skate. Used to do it as a kid when 'Ma could afford it, and-” He concedes. “when I didn't have pneumonia or something else nasty keeping me in bed.”

“Oh.” Tony says, a fond little smile brightening his features. “Sounds yeah...sounds great.”

“Hey Iron Britches-” Clint calls, prompting everyone to stare over at his perch atop a frozen over sun lounger.

“Can we make cookies, I always wanted to make those little gingerbread reindeer.” This time of year isn't always the best for people who grew up in tenuous situations, or who had less than ideal family dynamics. It doesn't escape Steve's notice that the people in the tower most into the spirit are Tony, Clint, and Natasha.

“Yes, absolutely, Jay, add cookie dough to the grocery list and block off some time.” JARVIS' affirmative is almost lost beneath Clint's whoop of glee. Natasha hits him with a snowball, and within a few moments the party deck has erupted into a massive and only slightly terrifying snowball fight. Tony doesn't join in though, choosing instead to remain bundled against Steve. He does offer commentary however, and his laughter is infectious when Hulk hits Clint with a snowball big enough to flatten him to the floor.

Tony takes a snowball narrowly missing their vantage point as a sign, going off to put on warmer clothes. Steve follows him inside soon after when JARVIS informs him that Tony is on the first floor waiting for him.

“I am so ready for this.” Tony says immediately, having apparently been waiting for Steve just outside the elevator.

“Oh yeah? You know any fancy skating tricks?” Steve asks, throwing an arm over Tony's shoulder to steer him towards the building entrance.

“Not even, but it's been a while, I'm uh-” He seems to bite back his own enthusiasm, looking everywhere but Steve's face. “never mind.”

“Tony.”

“Nope, not getting into it, but anyway, I want to see you do a triple axle.”

"Unlikely."  Steve snorts.

“What? You're going to tell me our resident battle ballerina can't do the twirly whirly on the ice?” Tony manages to look appalled and horrified by this prospect without even cracking a smile, but Steve knows when he's being smarted off to.

“Well if I'm showing off then we can't hold hands while we skate. You think of that ?” He feels that Tony would call this a well reasoned argument.  Tony's cheeks pink endearingly and he shoots a glare in Steve's direction but it lacks any real heat.

“Cap, you are not going to hold my hand the whole time.” Tony says, eyes widening when Steve just regards him steadily.

“Oh yeah, real sure about that aren't you Shellhead?” He says, squeezing Tony's hand affectionately.  Tony just shakes his head, looking away. He doesn't comment when they make it to a big outdoor rink and Steve makes good on his promise; taking Tony's hand in his and pulling him onto the ice.

They skate like that, palms pressed together in their gloves-only letting go so Steve can Spin Tony around him and switch hands. Tony's cheeks are flushed with the cold, his lips wind chapped by the time they step off the ice. Off to the side there are couples kissing on park benches while snow powders their hair. Steve grips Tony's hand a little more tightly, tugging him along to back up against a tree away from prying eyes. Tony follows without even the barest hesitation, breaths frosting out in foggy white puffs when Steve tucks him close, unbelting his jacket to wrap it around them both while they lean against the tree.

“You're always so warm.” Tony murmurs, eyes sliding shut when Steve nuzzles his cheek. “One day you have to let me study your biological processes.”

“I've told you, you can study my anatomy anytime.” Steve says, grinning when that makes Tony's shoulders shake with laughter.

“What if I wanted to get a good look at your _anatomy_ somewhere outside a lab setting?” Tony's eyebrows are waggling, his hands slipping up Steve's chest to rub at the firm muscle there. Steve fixes him with a supremely unimpressed stare.

“We have had this discussion before Shellhead, like I said-” Steve reaches up, curling his hand around the back of Tony's neck to bring their foreheads together. “Anytime.” He lets his voice drop an octave, and Tony licks his lips, pressing all along his body in a way that makes Steve almost forget that they're currently in public. That reality reasserts itself with the high pitched sound of what sounds like a child doing her level best so scream her tiny lungs out. Tony jerks back, head twisting around to seek the source of the noise-coming to a stop when he spots a little girl sitting in the snow next to the kicked over remains of a snowman.

“Oh no.” Tony says, pulling away from Steve, looking between the child and Steve.

“C'mon, let's go see, I bet she's an Iron Man fan.” He suggests, already pushing away from their tucked away spot.  Tony brightens, both of them trudging across crunching snow to come stand by the wailing little one.

“Hey.” Tony says, crouching down slowly. “Hey, someone knock that over?” Her sobs subside into hiccuping breaths and she nods, opening her eyes to look up at Tony. For a moment her mouth drops open, and then she's scrambling up, showing Tony her 'Abengers' watch; tears completely forgotten. Tony laughs, paying no mind to the wet and snow clinging to the bottom of his expensive black winter coat when he's given a great big hug by their tiny fan.

“Do you want to build a snowman?” Tony asks, shooting Steve a nasty look over the little girl's shoulder when Steve starts humming the tune to a song.

“Steve. Steven Grant Rogers, if you-if you get that fuc-darn song stuck in my head I'm divorcing you. I don't care how much you love Frozen.” Tony's grumbles.  Steve raises his eyebrows in response.

“Well Anthony Edward Stark, you'd have to marry me first.” Steve shoots back.  Tony looks duly unimpressed by Steve's shit eating grin, but glances back down at the little girl when she tugs on his jacket to stare up at him with big hazel eyes.

“Please don't get a divorce Iron Man, my mommies say you an' Cap are in love.” She looks so distressed by the dissolution of their fake marriage that Steve feels a little guilty.

“That so?” Tony asks, clearly amused.

“Uh huh, they said they saw it in the Daily Bugle.”

“Oh well if it's in the Bugle then it _must_ be true.” The sarcasm is overwhelming, but their young audience has yet to learn the nuances of Tony Snarkisms.

“Don't worry, Iron Man and I are still madly in love, you can tell your mommies I said so.” This seems to brighten her spirits, and she gamely joins in recreating her snowman, Tony dictating the size of the base for maximum sturdiness; holding her on his shoulders so she can plop the head on and its coal eyes. After they finish, Tony produces a sheet of Avengers stickers from somewhere in his pockets. They've attracted a small crowd, but the only ones that approach are the little girl's mothers, who thank Tony and Steve profusely for keeping her safe while they chased their little boy down-the apparent culprit of the first snowman destruction.

“You didn't have to lie to her you know.” Tony says once they're on their way back to the tower.

“Lie? About what?” Steve feigns ignorance pretty well, but the gambit doesn't seem to work.

“What you said back there. About me. About-” Tony stutters slightly, eyes darting around. Steve just takes his hand, giving it an encouraging squeeze. “loving me. I know those stories make you uncomfortable, and I don't blame you. I wouldn't want to be linked to me either-gossip rags have always made stuff up about me, I'm sorry they're telling lies about you too now. Price for being around me I guess.” Tony looks so down on himself that Steve just lets it slip out without thinking twice.

“Who said it was a lie?” Steve gets out before he can think better of it.  Tony's eyes jerk up to his; wide, and shocked, and full of something Steve can't even begin to put a name to.

“Don't. Don't say that.” He whispers, stopping in his tracks abruptly. “You can't-” Tony shakes his head, fists balling up tightly. He bites his lip, looking away; eyes glassy and lashes wet. Steve feels the bottom drop out of his stomach, and not in a pleasant way.

“I'm...gonna go.” Tony chokes out, pulling his phone out to give Happy their current location with a few quick words.

“Tony-” Steve says, desperate suddenly to keep him there.

“Gonna go get the cookie dough for Clint, can't disappoint tweety bird by showing up empty handed.” Tony laughs, but it sounds a little wet. He swipes at his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket, waving at Steve when a familiar black Rolls pulls up to the curb.

“See you back at the tower Steve.” He murmurs giving Steve one last look, the expression in his eyes raw as Happy comes around to shut the door; hiding Tony from view. Steve slumps, frustration and longing coiling together in the pit of his stomach until he wants to go charging after the Rolls-maybe pull Tony out of the car and shake him until he sees the truth. Instead he settles for wandering back to the tower, where Jan takes one look at him and declares it's time for hot chocolate.

He's on his third mug when Tony returns with several boxes of sweet smelling dough. He gathers everyone in the kitchen to reveal his gifts. Big containers of gingerbread, sugar cookie, and snickerdoodle dough from Clint's favorite bakery. Along with more varieties of sprinkles than Steve thought possible, bags of decorative icing, and a sack of cookie cutters. Even Hulk looks impressed, gingerly picking up a bell shaped cookie cutter between his massive hands.

“Bells, Hulk like bells, sound pretty, don't want to smash them.”

Tony smiles, holding up a box of tiny gum paste jingle bells.  “I know big green, brought these just for you. Party next week too. I'm having hats made.” Thor perks up at that, snatching his hand away from where it's been creeping towards Natasha's box of cookie dough.

“Hats? What sort of hats, is this one of your Midgardian customs?” Thor asks, curiosity evident in his tone.  Tony nods solemnly, reaching into one of his pockets to produce a Santa hat; plopping the red and white cap atop his own head.

“Verily Thor, it is. Now how about we start baking?” Tony answers with a wide smile.  Clint looks absolutely joyous at the prospect of homemade holiday cookies. His enthusiasm is infectious, as are the carols JARVIS helpfully streams through his many speakers. By the end the kitchen is an absolute wreck, but it's worth it for the giant plates of cookies lining almost every surface of the breakfast room. To the surprise of no one, Sam is great at cookie decoration, Hulk being fantastic at it however-that does come as a shock. He lovingly recreates Santa's reindeer, sleigh, and the jolly man himself in gingerbread.

“I almost feel bad about eating these.” Tony says, when they're all comfortably sprawled around one of the sitting rooms with giant mugs of hot cocoa and heaping plates of decorated cookies. Steve inclines his head in Hulk's direction.

“Well if you don't I'm sure he'll be willing to take them off your hands.” Steve says with a nod towards their sometimes jolly green giant.  Hulk grunts to the affirmative, picking Tony up and setting him down next to Steve.

“Too far apart.” Hulk grumbles. “Looks weird.” Tony just blinks, shaking his head and laughing a little disbelievingly. He doesn't protest however when Steve scoots closer and carefully lays an arm around his shoulders.

“Trade you one of my reindeer for one of your snickerdoodle penguins.” Steve feels it's a fair trade, but Tony turns to look at him, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Two reindeer per penguin Captain Handsome. Don't be cheap.” He says, holding up his hand and making a beckoning gesture.  Steve huffs out a laugh, passing over two reindeer cookies and getting one penguin in return. Tony settles against him after that, methodically working his way through more cookies than he's ever seen their usually health conscious co-leader eat. Steve smiles at Tony when he's caught looking, leaning in to rub his nose over Tony's hair.

“You smell like cookies.” Steve murmurs against the soft, sweet smelling strands.  Tony takes a pointed sip of his hot cocoa, biting the head off of a reindeer.

“Stuff it, keep talking about that and we'll end up fighting a giant gingerbread man or something because someone has watched too much Shrek and decided I need to die for eating their brethren.” Steve would laugh at the idea, but they really _have_ fought some incredibly strange villains in the past.

“So what sort of hat am I wearing for this party next week?” Steve asks, becoming only slightly worried by the glint in Tony's eyes.

“Oh, just an understated little Christmas tree.” Tony says, pulling out his phone to show Steve a picture. It's of a hat, or maybe it's more of a headdress. It looks about two feet tall, green and decorated with tinsel. Steve groans.  “Had a sweater made too.” Tony continues, shrieking when Steve starts poking him in the sides.

“Oh my god, take your foreplay to the bedroom!” Clint calls, earning himself a smack on the back of the head from Jan.

“Oh yeah? Maybe I'm an exhibitionist, don't kinkshame me Clinton.” Tony snipes.  Steve isn't sure he wants to know what the meaning of 'kinkshaming' is. It sounds decidedly like something he would look up in the middle of the night in a fit of excessive curiosity-and then regret his eidetic memory for the rest of time.

“Sir-” JARVIS interjects. “It appears The Grinch will be playing in five minutes, would you like to watch it.”

“Oh sure, yeah queue it up Jay.” Everyone settles in after that, Tony finally reprising his customary spot atop Steve to watch the rest of the movie. Steve runs his hands over Tony, and snuggles him close. Maybe this is all they will ever get to do, but he really can't complain too much; no matter what his libido would like to argue. Having Tony's affection and trust is worth all the sexual frustration in the world.

“Thank you Tony.” He whispers, kissing the soft shiny hair at the crown of Tony's head.

“Hmm what for?” Tony murmurs, sighing contentedly when Steve kneads at his shoulders.

“Gets lonely sometimes, round this time of year. You made it good. For all of us I think.” He says, indicating Clint and Natasha's cuddling forms. Both of them look warm and content swathed in an oversized red blanket decorated with Iron Man's faceplate.

“Oh. Don't mention it Steve.” Tony, always so quick to brush off compliments. “You made it good too.” He adds, after a moment of silence.  “For me. You made this-” He clears his throat, kissing Steve's cheek. “Dad always hated this time of year, I spent a lot of time alone while he and mom went off to wherever. This was nice. Really nice.”

“Yeah.” Steve breathes out, laying a hand over the arc reactor to feel it pulsing away steadily. “Yeah it was.”

 

 


	5. May Your Days Be Merry and Bright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're near the end here everyone! Next chapter is the big breakthrough for our poor beleaguered Steve-depending on interest I might write an epilogue to this. As ever, your comments bring me more joy than a sack of gold bars and sugar cookies.
> 
> The art at the bottom of this chapter was done by the amazing and wonderful [Baneme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/baneme/pseuds/baneme)

 

The twenty fourth rolls around more quickly than Steve anticipated. The villains have been more active than usual, and Steve has been thrown at Tony so many times that the armor now has a Fetch Cap protocol-Steve knows that's what it's called, he's heard Tony talking about it to JARVIS. Tony seems unconcerned by all of this however; thoroughly decking the tower out in more decorations than Steve has ever seen. It's impressive, as are the ridiculous hats he passes out to the Avengers after using their communicators to call them all down to one of the common areas.

“Did you just assemble us to give us hats?” Natasha asks, holding hers out and inspecting it critically. It's one of the more understated of the group. A gauzy white tree with little gems for ornaments. She looks around, seemingly taking note of Thor's reindeer horned helmet, Clint's bell strewn dual beer can hat, and Sam's wreath halo. Her lips quirk in a smile. “Mine is the prettiest.” She says with satisfaction, but Jan clears her throat, tapping her foot critically.

“Okay fine Jan, yours is the prettiest, but that's because you made it.” Natasha concedes. Jan smiles wide, holding her elegant holiday themed fascinator out for Tony to ooh and ah over. It really is pretty swell.

“Hey Thor, just so you know, if you press that button-” Tony says, strolling over to indicate a tiny red button on Thor's hat. “Yeah that. Press that and you get a little holo sleigh with reindeer flying around you head. I know how you love Santa.” Thor looks delighted, and soon there is a tiny holographic sleigh orbiting his head. Hulk swipes at it, but his hand goes through the hologram. He grunts, settling his own hat: An entire holiday village-atop his head.

“This one's for you.” Says Tony, sidling into Steve's space to hold out a tinsel bedecked tree.  “This too, had one made for you.” A sweater like the one Tony had been wearing a few days ago joins his armful of holiday swag. It's soft, green with tiny red versions of his shield all over it. Tony watches him cautiously, as if he's afraid Steve will refuse him.

“It's great Tony, I'll wear red pants.” Steve says warmly.  Tony's smile is small, but clearly relieved.

“And slippers.”

“Slippers?” Steve asks, reaching out to flick one of the bells on Tony's sweater.

“Yeah here.” Tony motions all the Avengers over to a pile of shoe boxes, passing out green and red slippers to all of them.

“Are yours green and red too?” Sam asks, trying his on for size. They fit perfectly.

“Nope, red and gold, of course.” Tony says with a grin.  “But I want you all to dress comfortably, this isn't like one of those galas-just us. Well us and Pepper, Happy, and Rhodey of course. All the important people.” There's something fragile in the statement. For all the press paints Tony as a promiscuous party boy Lothario, in all the time they've been a team, Steve can count how many parties the man has been to on one hand. Of those parties, only one had been for something other than Stark Industries. It makes something warm settle over him, that Tony only wants those he's closest to joining them. It means tonight he will just be Tony, instead of Tony Stark. There's a clear difference between his public persona, and the person he is in private. Steve loves all of Tony, even the masks, but his Tony is the clear favorite.

“It's going to be great Tony.” Steve says with feeling, setting his hat and sweater down on the table to draw Tony into a tight hug. Tony melts into it immediately, leaning into his embrace and wrapping his arms around Steve in return. He's warm, and smells of the cinnamon spiced potpourri liberally placed all around the tower.

“Yeah, you think so, don't think it's silly?” Tony asks quietly, after the others have drifted from the room-Sam giving him a wink and a thumbs up on the way out.

“It is a little silly.” Steve murmurs, slipping a hand up to stroke through Tony's hair. “Silly is good though, I like silly, it's nice to just have fun. Thank you Tony, it's great.” Tony is watching him uncertainly, just the barest hints of pink along his cheeks, so Steve kisses those two spots of color. Tony's eyes close, and he lets Steve hold him like that until JARVIS announces he has a call from James Rhodes. The AI sounds regretful about disturbing them, but Steve is happy Rhodes will be joining them. Tony obviously misses his friend, and Rhodes has given him solid advice before concerning Tony, maybe he can help work a miracle.

 _I could really use a miracle._ He thinks, smiling despite himself when Tony trots over to give him a kiss on the cheek before leaving the room to welcome Colonel Rhodes down in the underground garage. Steve watches him go silently, before picking up his sweater and hat, and heading to his own room to change.

The party is in full swing before Tony makes his appearance. He comes swanning in with a glass of something pale green in his hand that Steve recognizes as one of the drinks Jan has been mixing up since the party began. His slippers are indeed red and gold, matching the gold jingle bells on his red and green sweater, a pair of brown leggings with reindeer right over his distractingly round behind stare out at Steve accusingly when Tony bends to adjust one of his slippers.

“I'm here, and I'm full of holiday cheer!” Tony calls, laughing when Jan whistles. Atop his head he's sporting a red and white striped headband, but what crowns it grabs and holds Steve's attention. Tony is wearing a headband with a little sprig of felt mistletoe dangling above.

“Oh you're full of something, Stark.” Clint says, from his spot dancing atop a speaker. Steve has never seen anyone hip thrust to Bing Crosby, but he can't say it comes as a surprise. Steve is fairly certain Clint's cheerful holiday beer can helmet is full of rum spiked eggnog.

“Can it parakeet boy, everyone better pay the piper with a smooch or it's bad luck. And to sweeten the deal you get a piece of candy per kiss.” Tony does a little spin for effect.  Clint's dancing pauses.

“Candy?” Clint asks, and Tony nods, producing a basket of individually wrapped foil sweets. Clint hops down from the speaker.

Tony laughs making his way across the room, passing out candy-Clint demands first dibs-, chaste little kisses, and singing obscene carols when Natasha pinches his reindeer patched behind.

“Santa baby-” He coos, doing a little shimmy that makes Steve's mouth go dry for all of its ridiculousness. “come hurry down my chimney tonight-” Tony grins, putting his bowl of candy aside and skipping right up to Steve with a jingle. The little striped candy cane lure dangles between them in a way Steve can only think of as menacing. Tony bounces in place, the bells adorning his sweater jingling away merrily with his movements.

“Your turn Cap!” Warm brown eyes crinkle at the corners, the sparkle in them just shy of devious. Steve swallows, taking off his hat so it won't smack into Tony's, and stepping in to wrap an arm around Tony's waist drawing him close.

“Ooh, brave, c'mon Steve, plant one on me!” Behind them Steve can hear the other Avengers cat-calling and yelling, but that doesn't matter when he cups Tony's cheek and tips his face up. Tony's breath stutters a little, lashes fluttering when Steve adjusts the grip of his other hand; slipping his fingers just slightly beneath the back of Tony's sweater to graze over warm skin.

“You want a kiss here?” He asks, brushing his lips over Tony's cheek. “Here?” He continues, kissing the tip of Tony's nose, laughing quietly when Tony's eyes cross trying to track the motion.  “Or here?” He taps Tony's lips, just barely managing to contain his smile when Tony's eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“Yeah, that's...that's the tradition, gotta, can't mess with tradition, it's bad luck. You'll turn into a turkey, or even worse, Justin Hammer at midnight or something-” Tony's is looking everywhere but Steve's face, but his eyes drop shut immediately when Steve bends the slight distance between them to seal their lips together.

Tony tastes of the buttermint candy he's been eating all night, and the sweet chocolaty after dinner drink Jan had called a peppermint twist. His lips are soft, but the contact is electric, buzzing through his veins like a crack of lightning heat. The others are cheering, but they seem far away. Tony gasps; mouth opening slightly beneath his, and Steve takes that invitation for all it's worth, licking into Tony's mouth, kissing him and kissing him and kissing him until he feels Tony's back hit a wall. The headband slips down, hitting the floor with a soft thump. Tony breaks away to lay his head on Steve's shoulder, breath coming in panting gasps, fingers clutching at Steve's sweater tightly enough to bunch the fabric.

“How's that for tradition wise guy?” Steve says against Tony's ear.

“Oh my god.” Tony whispers.

Steve takes his hand away from where it's braced against the wall, grabbing Tony's chin and tipping his head back. Tony's pupils are blown, a dark flush across his cheeks. Steve drags his thumb over kiss reddened lips, watching Tony's eyes flutter closed in clear expectation of another kiss-and Steve gives it to him, burying his fingers in Tony's hair, and slanting their mouths together again. It's hotter this time, dirtier with Tony giving just as good as he gets; strong fingers winding into Steve's hair to pull until Steve growls and nips at Tony's lips warningly.

“Fuck.” Tony says against Steve's lips, voice thready and wrecked as Steve has ever heard it.

“Wow you're...” Tony shifts away, visibly pulling himself together. Steve feels his mood take a sharp nosedive.

“Really, _really_ dedicated to tradition.” Tony's eyes are bright and dancing, but he looks like he's gone a few rounds flat on his back. Steve stares at the man purported to be one of the smartest in the world incredulously as he picks up his ridiculous hat and adjusts his sweater.

“Tony that's not-” But it's too late, Tony is already off and running back over by Jan in pursuit of another drink. Steve slumps, rubbing a hand over his face with the air of a man condemned to death row. Rhodes makes his way over, patting his back comfortingly and pressing a glass full of bright pink liquid into his hand.

“I'm...sorry man. You look like you need this. Thor sent it over, some kind of Asgardian thing, he said it might work for you.” Steve takes the drink, downing it in one swallow. It tastes oddly like bubblegum, but burns on the way down satisfyingly. Steve could care less right this moment.

“I just...I don't-How is he not getting it? Is he not interested, am I overstepping does he not want-” Steve swallows thickly. “Me. Does he not want me?”

“God he does, if I have to hear about it any more I'm going to club him over the head. Tony's just.” Rhodes looks over to where the man in question is deep in conversation with Jan. “Look, let's talk somewhere else.” Steve nods, following Rhodes to an empty room, slumping down into a chair morosely. Rhodes eyes him for a moment, sighing and shaking his head in clear sympathy.

“Tony is a complicated guy. I've known him for years, and even then he still throws me for a loop sometimes.” Rhodes grabs a beanbag from a giant pile of them in a recessed portion of the floor. Steve would be more interested in this heretofore unknown room, but he's a little busy having a crisis at the moment.

“You're not doing anything wrong. Tony has what we call a lasagna of trust issues and self loathing so deep you might need a archaeological dig crew to break the surface.” Under other circumstance the wording might have made Steve laugh, but now it just makes him slump even further into his chair. “I probably shouldn't tell you this but I am so _so_ sick of him calling me in the middle of the night to wail in my ear like a lovesick tween.”

“I'm being really obvious. Even Victor Von Doom noticed. _Doom._ ” Steve grouses, wishing suddenly he hadn't chugged that Asgardian booze so quickly. Or maybe wishing for his shield if only for something to keep his hands busy.

“Yeah I've heard about this Doom thing. Here's the thing, he thinks you're too good for him. He thinks he doesn't deserve you.” Rhodes says matter of factly. Steve fights down the hysterical laugh building in the very depths of his soul.

“What! Why would he-” Steve thinks about that, thinks about every time he's given Tony a compliment only to have it turned around into something self deprecating, or deflected into losing its meaning. He thinks of the way Tony looks at him, a way he doesn't look at anyone else. It used to be a sort of reverence reserved for pictures in history books, now it's-

“Love. He...” Steve takes a deep breath, eyes raising to meet Rhodes' knowing gaze. “he loves me.”

“Yes, he does, and if there's one thing Tony is absolutely mind numbingly terrified of it's love. He still thinks I stick around for his money and tech and we've been friends since college.” Rhodes says, throwing up his arms with an air of long suffering. “Look. You want him to understand you want him-and I wouldn't be telling you this if I thought you had bad intentions by the way. You be good to my brother or I'll find you and it won't be pretty. You're going to have to do something drastic.”

“Yessir, and how drastic are we talking, because from where I'm standing that kiss was...it was pretty drastic.” Steve is at a loss, but the knowledge that Tony might love him brings new resolve. Steve has never been a quitter, and he's not about to take up the habit.

“You're going to have to spell it out, no jokes, he's not good with conversations about feelings, believe me I've been trying for years.” Rhodes stands up, patting Steve's shoulder consolingly.

“You think about how to do that and I'll go try and shake some sense into my favorite idiot.” Then Steve is alone with his thoughts and a room full of beanbag chairs.

He stays there for a little while until Tony comes looking for him. He's flushed and carrying a cup of eggnog, swaying into Steve's space and singing obnoxiously. His mistletoe headband has disappeared, and in its place a pair of sunglasses with blinking lights and tiny Santa hats on each lens are in its place.

“I don't want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing that I need-” Tony coos, crawling up onto Steve's lap to share his drink. It burns slightly on the way down, warm and spiced, and tasting just the way he remembers. Tony is still singing, the words interspread by barely contained laughter. Steve loves him so much in this moment he can barely contain it; joining Tony in singing the song he's heard playing everywhere from department stores to restaurants since November. Tony is clearly delighted, hopping off his lap to grab his hand. Steve follows him back into the party, offering no resistance when Tony pulls him onto a dancefloor he doesn't recall being there earlier. No point in wondering about that, things have a way of appearing as needed in the tower. Steve wouldn't be surprised if it was JARVIS doing somehow. Jan, Natasha, and Clint are dancing together, which soon becomes Hulk carrying the three of them in a graceless but tipsy laughter filled waltz.

“You gonna dance with me Steeeve?” Tony wheedles, smiling broadly when Steve nods, settling his arms around Tony's waist.

“Here I thought your dance card would be too full for an old fashioned fella like me.” Steve says, pulling Tony closer.  Tony laughs, reaching up to lace his hands behind Steve's neck. The music is plenty loud, but not so much that they can't hear each other talk.

“Always have time for you Cap, don't tell anyone else but you're my favorite.” Tony whispers conspiratorially in the way only those on their way to being soused can.

“So you've said, but I've heard you say that to Rhodes and Pepper before.” Steve points out, if only to see the scandalized expression on Tony's face.

“You're different. Different kind of favorite.”

“Yeah, think I might know something about that sort of different.” Says Steve, and Tony sighs almost sadly, glance darting away. Steve shakes his head pulling him closer so that they're dancing cheek to cheek.

“No it's.” Tony swallows audibly. “I..probably should shut up before I say something stupid.” Tony's breath is warm against Steve's cheek, his lashes flick with movement where their faces touch, soft like the mink ends of a paintbrush. Steve has a sudden stroke of inspiration, a crazy idea that just might work.

“Come spar with me.” He blurts, and Tony leans back in his arms to stare questioningly.

“What, right now?”

“No, when you're not busy, know you said all next week you're doing things for S.I. But after that. I have a few pointers for you. Think you can keep up?” Steve knows the challenge is something Tony is unlikely to be able to resist. The narrowing of Tony's eyes only proves the gamble to be correct.

“Oh, you're _on_ old man. You better bring your A-game.” Tony's smile is wide, and stays that way until he leads everyone over to the ridiculously huge and lavishly decorated tree in the east facing atrium to pass out presents. Steve is briefly worried that his present will be something he'll be too worried about the cost of to enjoy, but it's not. Tony pulls him aside while the others chatter and exchange gifts to pass him a box wrapped in paper with tiny iron man armors wearing Santa hats. Steve laughs, shaking his head and opening it carefully.

“These are, wow Tony, I've been looking at these, how did you know?” He murmurs, lifting the biggest box of watercolor pencils he's ever seen out of the wrapping. Tony looks pleased with himself, accepting Steve's hug when he sets the pencils down to do just that.

“JARVIS, he told me you were looking at them and it seemed like a very you thing. I also made a...small donation to this charity that provides service dogs for veterans. Small donation, no sweating about it.” Tony says, hands raised in preemptive placation. Steve wants to kiss him again. The sunglasses are long gone, he's somehow acquired Rhodes' reindeer antler hat, and he's the most amazing, confusing, wonderful _impossible_ man Steve has ever known. Steve loves him so much he doesn't know what to do with himself, so he settles on hugging Tony more tightly, whispering his thanks and praise until Tony is blushing tomato red and scampering off to harass Rhodes about the tiny robotic pea shooters he gave him as a gag gift.

Next week. He thinks; watching Tony gleefully accept a shower of confetti and tinfoil thrown all over him by Jan. Next week he's going to lay it all on the line.

 

 ------------------------------------------

 

By the end of the party everyone is more than a little tipsy, including Steve. That Asgardian stuff packs a punch, and Steve finds himself leading their party over to the room full of beanbags. Rhodes is surprisingly the first to jump into the beanbag pit, followed by Pepper. After that, everyone piles in; Steve picking Tony up and rolling the pair of them onto a particularly soft looking red cushion. It's made out of some sort of microfiber material, softer than rabbit fur, and warming to their body heat rapidly. Tony stares up at him, blinking slowly as Steve touches over his face.

“Hey baby, come here often?” Tony says, giggling slightly when Steve snorts and traps him against his chest.

“Hey Stark, Stark, Staaark-” Clint whines, rolling across the cushions to get a little closer. “Let's watch something.”

Tony squints, glancing up at the ceiling. “Jay, projection ratios, you know 'em, put something on so little Timmy will go to sleep.” The ceiling above them shifts with light, and soon a movie is playing out-something with felt looking animated animals, Santa's elves, and a reindeer named Rudolph.

“I'm happy you're here Steve.” Tony whispers, after most of the others have fallen asleep. Their presences warm and comforting in their makeshift bed for the night. Steve tugs Tony to lay beneath him, covering his body and basking in the contact.

“Yeah, feeling's mutual Sweetheart.” Tony flushes a little, reaching up to comb his fingers through the short hairs at Steve's temple. Steve wants to kiss him again, to lean down, cage him against the pillows and lay claim to that talented mouth again-but Tony is warm, snuggly, and more than a little tipsy. It wouldn't be right, no matter how the idea appeals to him.

“Happy holidays Shellhead.” He murmurs, leaning down to kiss Tony's forehead. Tony tips his head back and smiles, eyes sliding shut.

“Happy holidays Steve.” Tony says on a yawn, waving his hand to silence the movie still playing above them.

Outside the windows the city is lit with blinking lights, and white puffs of snow drift down. If Steve really listens, there are carolers somewhere down at street level. Steve falls asleep holding Tony close, surrounded by the people he cares most for in the world. It might not be peace on earth, but it's one of the best days he's ever had.

 

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/147179591@N05/25374821038)

 Thank you [Baneme](http://baneme-art.tumblr.com/) for the fabulous commission!


	6. Raspberry Beret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do note, this chapter becomes VERY, VERY smutty, so if you're not into that, just be uh...aware.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A truly incredible amount of screaming thank yous to my beloved esposa [Palindrome](https://justpalindrome.tumblr.com/<a%20href=) for commissioning the artwork in this chapter. She surprised the hell out of me with it and I've been a mess since seeing it.
> 
> And of course a million screeches for the wonderful and talented [Beir](<a) for making the fantastic art in question!
> 
> Update: There WILL be an epilogue once I finish ch.10 of my longfic, thank you all for your words of encouragement!

 -----------------------------------------------------

Next week rolls around both more quickly and more slowly than he anticipated; the New Year coming and going without Steve even registering it has passed.  Without Tony in the Tower to plan the party, none of the Avengers had really felt like throwing a party; least of all Steve. He supposes it probably has something to do with the low level anxiety constantly simmering in the back of his mind. He's had many nights to think over what could happen if this goes wrong, but Steve is notorious for his stubborn demeanor for a reason; he just hopes he won't lose his best friend in the whole world if this all goes south.

The gym is empty when he walks in, due in part to Steve making it very known to the rest of the Avengers that they might get an eyeful if they happen to be present while he puts his plan into play. That is _if_ it's successful of course.

As if in answer to his silent worrying, the man of the hour comes sauntering in. A fitted black t-shirt stretches across his shoulders, and a pair of sweats bearing Steve's shield and the words “Captain America” scrawled down the side encase his legs. Steve stares at them for a few seconds, wondering how it is that Tony always manages to have at least on piece of Avengers merchandise on him at all times.

“You like them?” Tony asks, bending over really quite unnecessarily to peel his shoes and socks off; coming to stand in front of Steve on the soft but firm sparring mats.

“I like the ones with my name across your behind more, but these are nice too.” Steve says, grinning at the mock scandalized gasp this earns from Tony.

“Why Cap, how lewd, I never would have thought.”  Tony throws a hand over his face in a pantomime of a swoon.

“Well I've got news for you Shellhead, prepare to be surprised.” Steve says with a grin, tossing a wink over at his best friend, and hopefully soon to be lover. Tony snorts, shaking his hands out and taking an easy loose stance across the mats. Despite Steve's plans, he has to admire the progress Tony has made in his hand to hand skills. Out of the armor he won't be able to do a whole lot against a supersoldier's speed and strength, but against a non-powered foe Tony does just fine.

“Alright then Stark, bring it.” Says Steve, crooking his finger at Tony in a way he knows will get the genius all in a huff. It works, and soon they're rolling across the mats, Tony using everything Steve and the others have taught him to put up more of a challenge than he ever has. Still, it doesn't take long before Steve has him down on his back. Most people would be offended by this, but Tony just laughs, delighted as ever by Steve's abilities. Only Tony would wear a smile on his face while Steve throws him around the gym. His tenacity and unwillingness to give up is one of the many things Steve can't get enough of.

“Give up yet?” He asks, after the fourth time Tony hits the mats. Fierce brown eyes stare up at him, and Tony shakes his head.

“Not yet, gimme one more try, c'mon this is embarrassing.” He doesn't look embarrassed though, just flustered and appealingly rumpled.

“Sure thing Sweetheart, but you better tell me if I'm too hard on your old bones.”  Steve says, leaning down to drop a tiny kiss on the tip of Tony's nose.  Tony just glares, hopping to his feet when Steve rolls from atop him and helps him up.

“Old! I'll show you _old!_ ”  Tony growls, all big brown eyes and affront.  Steve sets his feet on the mats, but even his strategically inclined brain is not prepared for the sight of Tony flipping his shirt up beneath his underarms, baring the whole of his chest to stroke over his own skin.  “Look at my nipples Cap!” Tony crows, and Steve really is looking, but instead of offering an opening for Tony to get a hit in, it just ends up encouraging Steve to tackle him back onto the training room floor. He goes down with a loud 'ooomph', struggling in Steve's grasp immediately; all that warm skin pressed up against Steve far too enticingly.

“Oh now you've done it Stark.” He growls, wrapping his arms around Tony's wriggling form and sliding downwards. Tony's eyes bug when he fastens his mouth over a spot just about in the middle of Tony's stomach, then inhales and blows the loudest most obnoxious raspberry possible on the skin there.

Tony shrieks in a truly undignified fashion, limbs starfishing out before he's pushing at Steve's head, dissolving into uncontrollable laughter. It's a sound Steve has heard so rarely from Tony that he can't help but inhale and blow another on the warm skin of Tony's stomach.

 

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/147179591@N05/38428824525/in/dateposted-public/)

 

“Cap! Haha...oh god what the-” Tony bucks under him, slapping ineffectually at his shoulders as Steve pins him to the floor.  “Stoppit, stop! I'm serious! heee-” Tony's legs rise up, locking around his torso in an attempt to roll them both over, but Steve holds him fast, laughing against his captive as he squirms and twists with impressive strength. Were it not for the serum, Steve knows he would probably be rolling across the floor right this moment. He makes a mental note to compliment Tony on his core strength training later, making a double note when a flailing elbow catches him in the shoulder with enough force to make him grunt.  “Steve! Steven Grant Rogers, you ass!” Tony wails, and Steve finally relents, rising up onto his elbows to lean over Tony; grinning down at him unabashedly. Steve's breathing is a little heavy, but Tony looks wrecked. His hair is mussed, Spots of color riding high on his cheeks, and a dark flush tints his olive skin a lovely rosy hue; the flush all the more striking for the glowing blue at the center of his chest.

“What was that mister big brain, you want another? Well gosh you just had to ask.”

"Listen, **listen** I am not Oliver fucking Twist I did not-” Tony appears to be trying to work himself out from beneath Steve, succeeding only in half turning to claw at the soft mats beneath them. “say please sir may I have some, more!”

Steve grins.

“That so, and here I thought a futurist like you woulda seen this coming.” He means to, well he doesn't really know what he means to do. The sight of Tony all hot and bothered beneath him with his shirt rucked up into something more like a necklace than a piece of clothing registers with sudden clarity in his mind. His creeping fingers gentle against Tony's stomach, the touch becoming featherlight over the firm muscle there. Tony stills, making a soft questioning sound when Steve touches over his hipbones, then further up, ghosting over heated flushed skin. Tony sucks in a sharp breath, goosebumps breaking out everywhere, and Steve bites his lip as he feels a shiver work through the body beneath his.

 “Careful” Tony murmurs, dark eyes fixed on his, the pupils blown out wide.  "Or I might think you mean something by all this.” The words are hesitant, clearly meant to give Steve an out-to turn this into their usual banter, but Steve is done being cautious, has been for months now. This is it. He thinks. His chance to lay it all out, to make Tony see what he's been trying to show him.

“What if I do” He starts, fingers skating upwards to thumb over flat dusky nipples. Tony gasps, shaking sweaty hair out of his eyes to stare up at him disbelievingly.  “What If I do mean something by this, what if I've meant something by it the whole time?” He finishes, growing quieter and more hesitant as he speaks, struck with the sudden terror that he's just ruined their friendship, that Tony has really been joking all along-that he's read to much into everything, that even Rhodes, and countless others have read this all wrong- and Tony will never look at him the same way again. The only sounds in the room are Tony's shuddering breaths, and the pounding of his own heart in his ears.

Then Tony twists beneath him to lay on his back, reaching up to rest his palm just over the center of his chest. Tony's fingers are warm, five points of heat against his sternum. He rests it there, eyes flicking down to his hand, where Steve is sure his heart beats against his ribcage far too rapidly to be from a simple sparring match. Tony has touched him before, many, many times, but never like this. He's never stroked a line of heat down Steve's stomach, never reached further down to cup him through his pants with clever dexterous fingers. Steve groans, shifting down to cage Tony against the floor with his arms, bracketing slim muscular hips with his knees.

“Oh-” Tony says shakily when Steve presses into the curious touch.  “You really-” Tony's fingers flex, and he stares down between their bodies incredulously. “You...why didn't you say sooner?” Steve groans when Tony slips his hand away to reach up and smooth over his chest, then up over his shoulders in slow hesitant touches.

“Tony.” He says; amused, aroused, and exasperated all at once. “Tony, I've been flirting with you nearly since we met.” He pauses, unsticking one of his hands from the mats to stroke over Tony's cheek. Wide brown eyes stare up at him, guileless for once with utter disbelief.  “I like for you to sit with me during movie nights. Been cuddling you during them for the last few months.” He narrows his eyes, leaning down to press their foreheads together. “I greet you with a good morning kiss on the cheek Tony. I...we go on _dates_? Frequently? We made out like a pair of teens during the party a week ago, I don't know how else to show you I mean it. Even _Doom_ knows.”

Tony blinks, then blinks again when Steve slides down to lay atop him, a soft little sound of surprise escaping his lips when it brings their hips into contact.  “Oh, oh I thought...I thought you were just-” He breaks off clutching Steve close by the shoulders, and throwing one leg around his hip when Steve nuzzles his chin and kisses over the prominent arch of his cheekbone. 

“I thought you were just like that with your friends, thought you were kidding when you...oh that's nice, touch me more mmm...” He all but purrs, pressing up into Steve's touches.  Steve chuckles, rubbing his knuckles over Tony's throat, his clavicles and the smooth scarring around the arc reactor. “when you flirted back.” He finishes, voice cracking when Steve rocks against him.

“Not kidding, never kidding about this with you, haven't been, god _Tony_ ” He shudders, slipping his hand away from Tony's chest to grab at the thigh wrapped around his waist-pushing it up and to the side so he can settle closer, feel the evidence that Tony wants him just as badly as he's always hoped. Tony is staring up at him with shock, and it's not every day Steve gets to see a super genius thrown for a loop.

“Tony-” He murmurs, when Tony scrapes short blunt nails over his back, body arching against his in a long sinuous roll of motion.

“Yeah, tell me what you want Steve, you can have it, have anything.” Tony says hotly, eyes going wide then dropping nearly closed when Steve leans in. His head tips back, lips parting, hands going up to tangle in Steve's hair.

“I want to kiss you, let me kiss you Tony?”

“God, please yes, kiss me _fuck_ me, whatever you want, just touch me.” Tony sounds desperate already, and god that's not a tone of voice he ever thought to have directed at himself.  Steve just barely bites back a groan, sinking down enough to brush his lips over Tony's-teasingly at first, but then in earnest when Tony moans into his mouth and presses up against him. Steve has been fixated on their mistletoe kiss since it happened, but this kiss is something else. Tony puts his whole body into it, legs wrapping around Steve's waist, fingers pulling at his hair. They part for much needed air only briefly, before Tony is dragging him back down, licking into Steve's mouth with a such focused intensity that Steve can't help but grind down against the body trapped beneath his.

“Steve!” Tony gasps, breaking away from the kiss, breaths panting out harshly in the relative quiet of the training room. Steve doesn't answer, choosing instead to mouth a trail of kisses down Tony's throat, then lower to worry marks into the smooth skin of Tony's stomach.  “Oh my god.” Tony whispers, seemingly to himself. He's watching Steve through barely open eyes, tongue flicking out to wet his lips when Steve dips his head, kissing the spot he was tormenting just moments earlier. Tony's hips shift restlessly, and Steve drops another kiss there, open mouthed and biting this time; feeling Tony's muscles flutter, and the hardness so obviously tenting Tony's sweatpants. Another drag of his teeth makes Tony moan, and Steve follows that sound up to the source, blazing a path of kisses back up to Tony's parted lips.

"You like that?"  He says against Tony's lips, shivering when Tony bucks up against him in a motion that seems almost entirely involuntary.

“Fuck, wow, hello Captain Not Shy..” Tony murmurs into the kiss. “Steve _yes_  I love it..please, want you so much.”  Steve groans, pinning Tony to the mats with his hips, drawing back to stare down at Tony. Steve knows he could come like this; grinding down against Tony with those sweet sounds in his ears, but what Tony said before has been rattling around in his head until it's the only thing he can think of. Tony seems to understand the look on his face somehow, because he reaches up, curving his hand around Steve's cheek and gazing up at him with an expression Steve never thought he would see on Tony's face.

“I really, really would like you to fuck me-”   Tony says seriously.  Steve sucks in a sharp breath, the words going straight to his cock. “but, we need stuff, and I need to get ready for you.” Tony's bites his lip worriedly, just a hint of insecurity coloring his words.  “If that's...if I'm...If you want that. Me. Like that.”  He finishes, glancing up at him through his lashes.

“I want you Tony, so much, anything you're willing to give me, even if that means this is all we do today.”  Steve says, almost before Tony can finish his sentence.  Tony stares up at him, shivering when Steve traces around the round edge of the reactor. “But if you're offering, then yeah, I'd love to.” That Tony would even offer is something Steve had not anticipated. Not that he thought Tony would be particularly shy, but he had not counted on Tony wanting this as badly as he does.

“Oh, I'm offering.” Tony says, low and hot. “You have to let me up though, and I'm going to need an hour.” Strong hands run all over Steve's chest, under his shirt, then down to cup the heavy weight of his cock where it's leaving a wet spot against the front of his sweats.  “Wow. Yeah, and my bedroom please, I'm going to need a lot of lube.” 

Steve flushes, rolling back onto his heels to get to his feet; pulling Tony up after him.  “I have plenty too.” Steve says, shrugging when Tony gapes at him.

"You what, really?” Tony asks faintly, eyes raking up and down Steve's body incredulously.

“Tony I was in the army, I'm not some saint.”

“Okay, okay, but still, my room, it has a bigger bathroom. You can wait for me in there if you like too.” Tony offers, and Steve doesn't know how he'll handle an entire hour of tension, but he's survived the wait up until now.

“Yeah, I'd like that, like that a lot.” He breathes out.  Tony smiles, taking his hand by the wrist and walking backwards towards the entrance to the gym. He's still flushed attractively, mouth reddened by kisses, and when he turns around to lead Steve up to his room, Steve can't help but let his gaze drop down to admire the backside he's been covertly ogling for quite some time now. Tony hums, smirking at him over his shoulder, clearly having caught on to what Steve is up to.

Tony's room is unchanged from the last time Steve was in it, but that's not what his attention is on when he's pushed into sitting on the edge of the bed, and Tony is sliding atop his lap to press devouring kisses to his lips. Steve gasps, hands curling around Tony's hips, then further down to knead the firm muscles of his ass; holding him in place even as he squirms and sucks on Steve's tongue.

“Mmm, okay, gotta, get ready for you Cap.” Tony murmurs, but he sounds a little breathless. Steve lets him go though, watching him intently as he saunters over to the bathroom door.  “Don't go anywhere Steve.” He's clearly aiming for coy, but the words are tinged with uncertainty.

“Couldn't even if I tried, nowhere I'd rather be than here with you.”

“God..you. You're so _cheesy_.” Tony says, pink faced and staring back at him. Steve shrugs, scooting up the bed to pull his shirt off, then methodically stripping out of his sweatpants. Tony just stares, mouth dropping a little bit as Steve reaches over to rifle through the side-table closest to him for lube.

“Might be cheesy but it's true, don't keep me waiting too long now, you've been driving me crazy forever.”  Steve says, settling back with an almost full bottle of something in a sleek black bottle proclaiming itself to be water based.  Steve doesn't recognize the brand, but he figures if it's in Tony's stash it must be good.  Tony gapes at him, at a loss for words as he slicks up his palm and gives his cock one long pull.

“Oh. My. God.”  Tony groans, turning away to make his way over to the bathroom quickly.  Steve chuckles a little bit when Tony slams the door behind himself with the force of his urgency.

It's going to be a long hour.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------

 

Time passes just as slowly as Steve predicted. He keeps his hands off of himself by sheer force of will. Tony is true to his word however, and at just a few minutes over the hour, he's back in the room, crawling up onto the bed, all dark eyes and wicked intent. It's definitely a good look on him, and Steve feels his arousal come back full force when Tony perches his warm naked form on his lap, and leans in for a scorching kiss.

“Welcome back sweetheart, do what you needed?” He says between kisses, shivering when Tony grabs his hands and leads them down to feel what he's been up to.

“Yeah, still going to need a little help, but I got things rolling.” The smirk on his face disappears as Steve reaches further down and in to rub his fingers over Tony's hole. He's wet with lube there, the muscle soft and relaxed enough for Steve to easily work the tip of one finger inside.

“Jesus, Tony.” He groans, leaning his head against Tony's chest.

“You...ooh, you like that?” Tony gasps out, wriggling around to snatch the lube up from where Steve dropped it on the covers; popping the cap, and reaching back to drip a generous portion over Steve's fingers.  “C'mon then, open me up, God I've been thinking about this so long, want you so much-” Tony's words trail off into a moan when Steve mouths at his throat and works two slippery fingers into the hot clasp of his body. He's all slick inside, and doesn't that present an enticing picture. Tony in the bathroom working himself open. Was he bent over the sink? Maybe on his knees on the floor, those dexterous fingers Steve loves so much buried within himself.

“Can you take a third?” He asks, leaning back to watch Tony's face as he pulls his fingers out to trace over the rim of Tony's hole. Tony's pupils are blown wide, but he licks his lips and smiles when their eyes meet and hold.

“Yes, gimme three, go for it.” Tony gasps, burying his fingers in Steve's hair, as Steve carefully works his fingers inside; first two, then the third when Tony whines and rolls his hips back into the touch. They watch each other as Steve spreads his fingers, Tony's grip on his hair winds tighter, but he's making soft little sounds in time with the thrust of Steve's fingers, pushing back into them, and twisting his hips as if he could take them deeper, as if they're not already as far into his body as they can go.

“How's that?” He manages to get out, the low gravelly cadence of his voice surprising even to himself.  “Does it feel good?” He asks, turning his fingers to stroke around, until he's rubbing right up against a spot he knows well in himself, hopefully Tony likes it as much as he does. Tony's eyes widen, and his cock jumps, leaking precome out messily over Steve's abs.

“Fuck, yes, yes that's good.” Tony groans, dropping his hands down to brace on Steve's shoulders; digging his knees into the mattress to give Steve better leverage to fuck him open with his fingers. Steve always figured Tony would be a noisy lover. He's spent probably unhealthily long amounts of time with his own right hand trying to imagine what Tony would sound like, what he would look like writhing above Steve just like this. Even Steve's exceedingly vivid imagination could not do Tony justice. He _is_ vocal, but not in the loud obnoxious way of some of the less than inspiring videos Steve has seen. His pleasure sounds dredged out of him, almost shocked, as if he's surprised by what Steve is doing to him, as if he can't help but gasp and pant, and drop sloppy open mouthed kisses on Steve's lips.

“Steve, darling, beloved-” Tony moans, pulling away from Steve's mouth, reaching back to lay a hand across Steve's wrist.

“Alright, you alright?” Steve asks, stilling his fingers, and slipping them out. Tony shivers all over, sliding his hands over Steve's chest, his shoulders, and then back up to comb through his hair. He's smiling though, flushed and just as aroused as Steve.

“I. Am great.” Tony murmurs breathlessly, leaning down to pepper Steve's face with kisses.  “Where did you learn that anyway, how did you...nevermind. I need you to take that gorgeous cock of yours and do something productive with it, because while I love your fingers so much I could write an aria to them, I would really, _really_ like to come on your cock.” Tony's voice is slightly breathless, but there's no hesitation in the way he says it.  Steve might gape a little in response, but that sounds like an order, and Steve's a military man at heart.  “Condom, yes or no?” Tony asks, grabbing the lube up again and pouring a pool of it into his hand. Steve shakes his head, leaning up to slant his lips over Tony's in a brief kiss.

“Up to you, not susceptible to any of the regular stuff, you know that.”  Steve says warmly, running his hand down Tony's back just to feel the softness of his skin over hard muscle.  Tony seems to think that over, then he's reaching back, covering Steve's cock with that palmful of slick. Steve groans, nearly knocking his head back against the headboard when Tony gives him a few tight strokes, and rubs over the sensitive spot just under the head.

“I want-” Tony says slowly. “I want you to come in me then, make a mess of me.” Steve can't believe him.

“Oh I will, I hope you know what you're asking for.” Steve says, low an helplessly aroused.  

Tony just smiles, a flash of white teeth against his bottom lip.  “Promises promises.”

Steve snorts, gripping Tony's hips, and flipping him onto his back with one calculated move. Tony goes over with a yelp, but he seems more aroused by the manhandling than offended-that quick mind of his working even now, directing Steve to wedge a pillow beneath his hips so he can spread his legs over Steve's arms; the bends of his knees lining up just so with the crook of Steve's elbows. It's obscene, looking down at Tony like this, and Tony seems to know what he's thinking, dark eyes glittering as he wraps his hand around his cock to give himself slow even strokes. The motion of his hand stills when Steve takes himself in hand, and presses against the stretched rim of his body. He teases the head against him, pushing in just enough to let him feel it, before pulling out again, repeating the motion until Tony whimpers and tries to drag him closer with his legs.

“Come _on_ Steve, please, please-” The words cut off into a long cry when Steve finally, _finally_ presses in deep; Steve letting out a moan of his own at the feeling of Tony's body clenching around him and then _giving._ Tony's head drops back, eyes shutting, as he arches up from the bed.  “Yes..just like...just like that.” Tony pants out, splaying his thighs wider between them, allowing Steve to push forward until their hips are flush and Tony's short blunt nails are digging into his shoulders.

“Gorgeous, you're so gorgeous, so beautiful, so good.” Steve feels like he might be rambling, but it's all true. Tony is all of those things and more whether he's flushed with pleasure beneath Steve, or wandering around his lab idly spinning ideas that will change the face of modern technology.

“Oh my god. Steve, _move_!” Tony moans, rolling his hips back against Steve, the flush creeping over his chest and shoulders darkening when Steve makes an educated guess that Tony enjoys being praised; leaning over Tony to whisper the filthiest things he's ever said out loud against Tony's lips, kissing him between panting drags of breath as he sets about fucking him into the mattress. Most men Steve has been with in his admittedly short history with these things go at least semi soft at first, but Tony's erection hasn't flagged at all. He's so hard it almost looks painful, his cock leaving sticky trails of precome over his stomach where it juts out from his fist.

“You're doing so well, God...look at you, taking it so good, fuck, Tony.” He groans out, grabbing Tony's arms and pinning them above his head, crossing his wrists to hold them there with one hand, and stroking over Tony's face, then down over his throat, his chest, until he wraps his hand around Tony's cock to touch him in time with the deep rolling thrusts into his body. Tony doesn't fight his hold at all, instead, he shifts his hips around, grinding back against Steve, and giving a harsh wordless cry when Steve nails him just right.

“There, _there_ , please Steve, fuck I'm so close, please, Darling, please I need it-need you, love you..” He babbles, as if he's lost control of the words spilling from his mouth, thighs splaying wider between them when Steve covers his body with his own to take his mouth in a deep kiss.

Tony loves him, and that's a realization he's already come to on his own, but to hear him actually say almost makes him lose control. It's too much, too good, with Tony urging him on, kissing him between heady sounds of pleasure that drag out into something like wails-and Steve knows better than to bring it up, lest Tony be embarrassed by his own noises, but Steve has never been with anyone so responsive, never been with anyone who abandons all restraint, and certainly never been with anyone with Tony's particular flair for loving filth.

“Love...Beloved, going to come, going to-” His words trail off into a sound of pleasure so intense it seems almost painful when Steve bites down onto his shoulder, grinding against his prostate and stroking his cock in tight corkscrewing motions; and then he's coming, clenching around Steve's cock and bucking against the hold around his wrists; eyes wide and stunned as streaks his own chest with his release. That's it for Steve too, watching Tony come apart beneath him is better than anything his half fevered imaginings have ever come up with, and he's grinding in deep, kissing Tony's panting mouth and coming so hard his vision spots around the edges.

It's still and quiet between them, both of them trying to get their breathing under control. Tony breaks the silence first, tilting his head back to brush their lips together, and quietly asking to have his hands released. Steve lets his wrists go immediately, sighing when Tony scratches over his scalp and kisses him slowly.

“That was really something.” Tony murmurs, hissing under his breath with overstimulation when Steve pulls out of him slowly and traces around his hole.

“It was, you're a wreck Shellhead.” He notes with satisfaction, cutting Tony's affronted ranting off before it begins by sliding down Tony's body to drag his tongue through the mess on his stomach and chest. The taste is bitter, but not bad at all, and it's worth it for the shocked sound it punches from Tony's lips.

“Christ, Steve, that's...you're-” Tony swallows, rolling his shoulders to sit up slightly and look down between their bodies. “Oh my god, you're hard again, how is that possible?” 

Steve shrugs, feeling his cheeks heat up something fierce.  “Serum, and uh, being around you.”

Tony blinks, chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully.  “Play with my prostate enough and I can get hard again...maybe. Not just yet though.” Tony smiles somewhat faintly, patting his jaw comfortingly, but that soon gives way to a familiar look of curiosity.  “How many times can you come?”

“Usually three or four if I uh-have really good inspiration.” Steve says, feeling mildly embarrassed by the admission.  His refractory period since the serum took effect has been the source of a lot of frustration.  Tony looks more than a little impressed, but also more than a little smug.

“Yeah? Do I qualify as good inspiration Steve?”

“Oh Sweetheart.” He breathes, staring down into Tony's warm brown eyes. “You're the best inspiration I've ever had.” 

Tony's eyes flutter shut, and he takes a deep breath, but then he's pushing at Steve's chest, urging him up only to turn around; tossing the pillow away, and laying down on his stomach.  “Come on then, get your kicks, I've seen you staring at this _inspirational_ sight a few times.” Tony says, indicating the round swell of his behind-wiggling it for good measure-and well, who is Steve to refuse such an obvious invitation?

“You're too sensitive for me to fuck you again right now, won't feel good for you.” He says, running his palms down Tony's back, watching the flex of strong muscles avidly.  Tony smiles back at him affectionately, but also more than a little deviously.

“Not what I meant Cap, here-” He tosses Steve the lube. “Spread some of that here, and then, well, you get the picture.” Tony says, quirking one eyebrow with suggestion.  Steve feels his mouth go dry when Tony reaches back to spread himself apart, baring the loosened stretch of his hole, and the evidence of what they had been doing just a few minutes earlier.

Tony laughs as Steve nearly fumbles the bottle of lube in his haste to do as Tony suggested, but he gets the job done; pouring a generous portion of the slippery lubricant between Tony's cheeks, some of it drips down onto the small of his back, but it's good, perfect even-when Steve slides his cock through that slick channel. Tony tips his hips upwards, hands dropping back down to the bed as Steve grabs that tempting flesh, pressing Tony's cheeks together tightly and thrusting into that tight hot space. Tony is watching him over his shoulder, eyes dark, and mouth moving with filthy praise that breaks off into tight little gasps when Steve's cock catches on his hole every few passes.

Typically his second orgasm takes longer, but this time is different. The slick friction, Tony's encouraging words, and the sight of Tony beneath him all conspire to push him over the edge much more quickly than he anticipated.

“Fuck, amazing.” Tony gasps as Steve braces a hand on the back of his neck and comes across his back with an embarrassingly loud moan.  “Holy shit.” Tony whispers, grunting when Steve lays down atop him, uncaring of the mess, intent only on gripping Tony's chin to angle his jaw for a long deep kiss that leaves them both shivering. They stay like that for a time, Steve drawing Tony into slow lingering kisses over his lips, the back of his neck, and the sculpted lines of his shoulders, until Tony is squirming beneath him with renewed arousal. Steve has been half hard for a while, but the tilt of Tony's hips, and the strong hand gripping his own encouraging him to press his fingers back into warm gripping heat brings him all the way around to fully hard.

“Little deeper, just, just...gentle, feels good, but you have to work me up to it, not a supersoldier.” Tony says, spreading his thighs a little wider on the bed and laying his head on his arms as Steve steadily works his fingers against Tony's prostate.  “Oh Jesus, Steve, okay...that's..” Tony groans, one of his legs kicking against the mattress when Steve slips three fingers into his wet hole and rubs at that tender spot while he teases the patch of skin behind Tony's balls with his other hand. His hips buck upwards into the pressure, and he practically writhes on Steve's fingers, blowing out a hiccuping gasp when Steve leans in to lick a stripe up the flexing line of Tony's back.

“Alright Tony?” He asks, low and full of promise.

“So alright, yes, I'm...I'm good, c'mon, please.” Despite Tony's obvious confidence in his ability to take him again with nothing further, Steve still drips more lube along the spaces between his fingers. Better safe than sorry, Steve would hate to think he hurt Tony while doing something like this-something that requires so much trust. Still, he can't deny Tony when he rolls over onto his back and pulls Steve close.

“I hear you, just relax, let me do this.” Says Steve, getting his knees under himself and dragging Tony's hips up onto his lap, shifting him to push one of his thighs wide, while draping the other over his shoulder.

“I'm relaxed, so relaxed, I'm...oh-” Tony throws an arm over his face, groaning as Steve presses into him slowly. His cock is undisputeably hard, twitching slightly when Steve finds the right angle to make him gasp out obscenities and declarations of love as Steve sets about driving him to the edge with the same sort of methodical focus he applies to battle. Tony's body is easy to read, the flush down his chest, the way he pushes back against Steve, and the fluttering of his internal muscles when he does something that feels particularly good all serve to tell Steve he's doing a good job.  “Kiss me, Steve, kiss me, fuck, who taught you this shit, oh my god.” Tony sounds near delirious, moaning into Steve's mouth when he leans down to give him what he's asked for. He feels so good, so perfect like this, that Steve can't help but whisper that praise into his ear, lips pressed against sweaty curling strands to tell Tony exactly what he feels like wrapped around Steve's cock.

That more than anything, seems to do the trick. Tony arches, nails digging into Steve's back, tension and pleasure ratcheting higher until he's clenching around Steve's cock, slick, hot, and delicious right on the edge of orgasm. Steve groans, pushing his thigh higher, angling for that spot that made Tony react so intensely before and grinding there, laying his hand over Tony's belly to hold him down into the short hard thrusts. Tony's hands fall from his shoulders, one dropping to wrap around his flushed cock, the other clawing at the sheets.

“Steve!” Tony gasps out, voice threading on the edge of a whine. “Steve _please!”_

“Tony, are you going to come for me? Come on Sweetheart, show me, show me how good it feels, show me how good I'm fucking you.” Steve gasps out, hardly able to believe the words coming out of his own mouth, but Tony's reaction is something he will draw later. Tony's breath stutters, arching so hard only his head remains on the pillows, eyes rolling up and fingers scrabbling at the sheets when Steve slaps his hand away from his cock and replaces it with his own, grabbing at Tony's hip with his free-hand.

Tony comes with something near to a scream, fingers yanking at the covers so hard Steve swears he hears something tear. That thought is wiped away by the way Tony spasms around him, his orgasm making him shiver uncontrollably inside and outside. Steve pushes in once, twice, through that clinging heat, before he loses the battle with his own will, and he's coming, dropping his head down to seal his mouth over Tony's as his hips give a few last stuttering thrusts. They lay there, utterly spent for how long he has no idea, but It's Tony shifting around in obvious discomfort that finally inspires him to move.

“My god, okay, wow I think I drooled into my beard. I'll just get myself cleaned up, and then you can go sleep.” Tony says, shifting his hips atop Steve's legs restlessly.  Steve blinks, pulling out of Tony gingerly, trying and failing not to turn red with the knowledge of just how much of a mess he's made of both of them.

“We can shower together, then sleep. Here.” Steve keeps his tone firm but still gentle.  Tony stares at him, mouth opening and closing.  “Tony. You didn't think I would do something like this with you and just...leave after, did you?” Steve asks carefully.  Tony's silence and slightly wounded expression say everything he needs to know on that front.  “I don't want you to think I'm saying this because we just had sex.”

“Great, fantastic, filthy, wonderful sex.” Tony corrects him smugly, but the expression on his face is cautious.

“Yes, it was all of that, but I'm not going anywhere unless you want me to. Tony-” He says, tugging Tony up into his arms to kiss over his face, ignoring the muttering that elicits. “Tony, I know this might come as a shock to you, because you're one of the most oblivious sons of a gun I've had the pleasure of knowing..”

“Hey, that's, that's not true.” Tony mutters.  

Steve ignores him, plowing on as if he hasn't spoken.  “I love you.”

Tony stills. “I've loved you for months. This wasn't about sex, as wonderful as it was, I'd have been happy as your friend without it, but yeah I-” Steve trails off when he gets a good look at Tony's face. He looks similar to the way he did that day with the ice skating, but this time there's a trembling sort of hope coloring his expression.

“You. That time, you meant that?” He asks quietly.

“Yeah I did. You know for such a smart guy, you can be pretty hard to get through to.” Steve says bemusedly.

“You love me.” Tony says, awestruck, turning in his arms to touch over his face wonderingly. “You really do, this isn't some joke.”

“I resent that you would think I could be that cruel.” He says gently.

“No, you don't understand. All this time I thought you were just humoring me, I thought you couldn't ever possibly want me. Not the way I want you anyway, I ran the probabilities, and every time I came up with a negative.” Sometimes Tony can really overthink things, and it's still shocking how low of opinion the guy has of himself despite his public image.  Steve sighs, dropping a kiss on Tony's lips, and regarding him steadily.

“I think that indicates a bias on your part instead of how I feel about you, and I think if you ask anyone they would tell you that I haven't exactly been subtle.” Steve thinks about the betting pools all going right now, and those are just the ones he _knows_ about. There's no telling how many more of them will blow up when their relationship goes public. That is if Tony even wants a relationship.  “I want to date you, in fact, kinda think we have been dating, but I want to do this officially.” Forget the media, and forget PR and masks, and whatever nasty opinions people might have about Tony.  He survived an being frozen in ice for seventy years, he wants Tony with everything he has.  Tony stares at him incredulously. He's silent for a few minutes, just studying Steve's face.

“I love you too you know, since, god-forever.” Steve has a moment to panic over the shine of emotion in Tony's eyes, and then he's being hugged fiercely, Tony kissing him as if he could never get enough. He answers those kisses eagerly, clasping Tony tightly against his body, and murmuring affirmations against Tony's lips as he breaks the kiss to take deep shuddering breaths.

“So is that a yes on being my fella then?” Steve asks, joyful with the possibility, and Tony laughs, the sound bright and warm.

“God, yes Steve, but that better be a mutual arrangement.” Tony says, darting in for a kiss-which is returned immediately.  Steve grins, rolling them both off the bed to carry Tony into the bathroom on slightly wobbly legs.

“I'm all yours Sweetheart, you don't have to worry. Been yours for a while now, I was just waiting for you to notice.”

Tony kisses him again, and continues to kiss him until they're in the shower beneath the warm comforting spray of his truly excessive shower heads.  They stay in there for an indulgent amount of time, tumbling back into bed together once they're reasonably dry. Tony cuddles close, offering no resistance when Steve curls around him and traps him against his body.

“I love you Tony.” He whispers against damp curling hair.

“Happy new year Steve, guess we found someone to kiss for good luck even if it's a few days late.” Tony murmurs, smiling widely and demanding another kiss.

“I might have a hard time saying it later outside of here, but I love you too, so much, Steve.” It's easy to hold him close after that, their conversation becomes quieter and quieter, until both of them are struggling to stay awake.

“Stay, sleep here?” Tony whispers sleepily, as if Steve was planning on being anywhere else.

“As long as you want.” Steve answers, sweeping his hand through damp curling hair.  Tony smiles, eyes drifting shut.

“I want a long time then, possibly a life sentence.” Tony mumbles, turning into the touch.  Steve hums as if he's thinking it over, running his other hand over the dip in Tony's spine in small soothing circles.

“Think I can work with that Shellhead.”

“No take backsies, you're stuck with me now.”

“No place I'd rather be.” And it's true. Some people say getting what you want the most is an empty thing, but Steve has never felt happier. He's also rarely ever been this tired. Sleep creeps up on him as well, the steady sound of Tony's breathing and his warmth serving as an excellent lullaby. His last thoughts before he drops off are full of the way Tony looks curled against him. Somehow he knows without a doubt that Tony will still be right there in the morning, so Steve smiles, and lets sleep drag him under.

 


	7. Nine Lives Will Never Be Enough: Epilogue Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SPOILERS FOR SEASONS 3&4 BEWARE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So fair warning there is some heavy angst in this part, as it deals with Tony's disappearance and presumed death in Seasons 3 and 4. Steve does NOT handle it well, so if unhealthy coping mechanisms and angst are upsetting to you DO NOT READ THIS CHAPTER. Part 2 contains our much needed reunion, but first SUFFERING because I'm awful. Thank you all for your immeasurable patience while I get my shit together! As always, your comments and kudos are much appreciated and cherished like gifts!
> 
> Warnings: Angst, Presumed death, Steve not coping well, Panic attacks/PTSD, and Sexual content (although not a ton) at two points, one of which is at the very beginning.

* * *

 

Morning breaks over them in shades of buttery warm sunlight. Steve is used to waking with the dawn, but not the warm body laying beside him. A slat of light leaves a golden stripe over Tony's bare torso, the sheets are pooled low, leaving very little to the imagination. Stark contrast against Tony's skin and the perfect finger shaped bruises over his hips. Steve feels himself go hot all over.

“Staring awfully hard there darling.” Tony murmurs, the flickering of his lashes, and the sliver of brown beneath them the only sign he's awake. Steve's flush deepens slightly, having been caught staring, but he's allowed to look now isn't he?

“I got a lot to see.” He says, scooting a little closer to lean over Tony, resting his hands on the pillow to trail kisses over the strong lines of his neck. Tony shivers, hands going up to stroke through his hair.

“Good morning Steve.” Tony says, a brilliant smile on his face that's still a little shy despite what he knows the man is capable of. Steve smiles back, rolling on top of Tony to give him a real kiss. It's tradition after all.

“Good morning Tony.” Steve responds warmly when they separate. Tony looks up at him wordlessly for a few moments, but the stroking fingers in his hair shift into a firm tug. Steve lets himself be pulled down into heated needy kisses that do more to wake him up than a triple shot of espresso. Beneath him, Tony parts his long legs to let Steve's hips settle between them, both of them gasping into the kiss with the hot press of their bodies together. Steve groans, slipping one of his hands over Tony's thigh, then down and back further to cup one round cheek in his palm; curving his fingers to rub over smooth silky skin in a silent question. Tony's hands unwind from his hair, dropping down to dig the half moon marks of his nails into Steve's shoulders when Steve's touch becomes more insistent, two fingers pressing and tracing over the rim of his hole.

“Are you-” Steve's voice is hoarse with arousal, so he clears his throat. “Is this okay?”

“Captain America is a dirty pervert, will wonders never cease?” Tony says with a grin, head leaning back into the pillows to bare the long line of his throat.

“Tony-” He laughs, dropping his head to rest on Tony's shoulder, drawing his hand away to thumb over one of Tony's nipples until it pebbles beneath his touch. Maybe Tony is right after all.

“Hey.” Tony huffs, poking him in the side. “Hey I didn't say that was a bad thing, lift up a little bit-” He says, coaxing Steve to shift atop him.

“Like this?” He whispers, breathless suddenly when Tony slips a hand between their bodies.

“Mmmm, yeah. Just like that.” The words are a little rough, but so is Steve's answering moan at the first touch of Tony's hand. “While I would sincerely  _ love  _ for you to fuck my brains out again, I have a meeting in about three hours, and I'm ooh...a little sore-oh that's really nice Steve. You're so hard darling, beloved.” He lines them up together, hooks a lean muscled leg over Steve's hip, and twists his wrist  _ just  _ right. It's incredible, and fast and hurried, their eyes are locked until Tony stretches up to pull him into eager kisses. The flicker of his tongue against Steve's lips, the strong hand he winds into Steve's hair to tug at blond strands, the dizzying press of their bodies together, and the perfect slide of Tony's hand around their cocks; it's all too much, and Steve comes with a growl of Tony's name.

“God.” He pants out. “Goddamn.” He takes a moment to groan at the sight of Tony's smile, and then he's kissing down his chest, dragging his teeth over toned musculature-pausing to kiss around the arc, before moving further down to lick his own mess off Tony's skin. It makes his ears burn hotly, but it hardly matters with Tony whining and urging him on with filthy praise. In fact it doesn't matter at all when Tony spreads his thighs wide and lets Steve settle his shoulders beneath Tony's knees so he can get Tony's dick in his mouth to lick and suck him into a gasping climax; the clutch of his body around the fingers he works into Tony is almost as tight as the grip on his hair.

“This is the best day of my life.” Tony says almost to himself. “Come up here and kiss me Steve, I'm getting lonely.”

“Oh really-can't have that.” Steve says, pulling off of Tony's cock with an all too satisfied grin. Tony pulls at his hair gently, urging him up.

“Don't talk with your mouth full.” Tony whispers against his lips, yelping when he gets a little bite in retaliation.

There's not much talking after that. Another hour is lost, but they do eventually stagger off for a shower. Steve gets distracted all over again when Tony steps into the bedroom in one of his obscenely well tailored suits. Around the tower it's rare to see their resident billionaire in anything other than his comfortable workshop clothes or the flightsuit. It's almost easy to forget that Tony has more jobs than any of them. Now watching him smooth the lines of his waistcoat, and chatter away to JARVIS concerning stocks-he feels a little bad for monopolizing so much of Tony's scant free time.

“I'm sorry you're sore.” He murmurs, coming up behind Tony to pull him into a sort of backwards hug. Tony laughs, leaning his head back on Steve's shoulder to press a warm kiss over Steve's cheek. Steve's arms tighten around him, the sleek weave of his suit feels decadent compared to the simple cotton of his own worn army tee.

“Well. I'm not. The chairs in the boardroom are ridiculously comfortable, and they're used to me fidgeting anyway. They don't have to know that today the cause of my wiggling around is Captain America's giant d-”

Steve kisses him to stop that particular sentence from being fully uttered. Tony just laughs, but he does kiss back, so Steve counts it as a win.

“It's not that big.” He finally mutters, feeling his cheeks burning. Tony turns in his arms so they're face to face, sliding his palms over his chest. One dark brow quirks upwards. Steve feels his doom approaching maybe just a little bit.

“It really is Steve, I feel like I should have run a flag up it first.”

“Tony, oh my god, don't be crude” He laughs out, squeezing Tony close.

“Oh but I am crude baby, crude and lewd, but you love me anyway.” Tony snickers, kissing all over his face and poking his red cheeks with quick clever fingers.

“Yeah. I do love you.” Steve sighs in mock defeat. Tony's smile is both sharp and soft, all contradictions, just like the man himself, but it softens further-melts into something sweet and mellow. Sticky sweet like toffee when they kiss again, gentle this time. Steve cups Tony's face between his palms, chasing the fresh taste of mint until Tony pulls back to rest against him. The heat of his hand radiates where it rests over Steve's heart. Tony curls his fingers in the soft fabric of his shirt, lashes dipping when Steve holds him tightly, one palm splayed over the small of his back.

“I love you too.” He breathes against Steve's neck.

They stand like that, soaking each other in until JARVIS carefully informs Tony that his meeting is not so distant any longer. Both of them go down to the kitchen, so Tony can inhale his customary tankard of coffee, and Steve can eat his buffet's worth of food. All of the Avengers are there when they arrive. Clint takes one look at them and starts swearing-stomping off in a huff. Tony watches him go, lips curved upwards in a smile.

“What's eating him?” Steve asks, slipping his arm from around Tony's waist to get the biggest wok they own out of the cupboards. He's ravenous, even moreso than usual.

“Lost a bet.” Natasha answers with a sharp grin.

“My friends, this is an auspicious day indeed!” Thor booms, throwing his arms open to grab Tony up in an inescapable hug. Tony yelps, legs kicking as he's lifted off the ground.

“What are you talking about, put me  _ down.  _ This is a Brioni, if I wrinkle it before the meeting Pepper will set phasers to kill, she'll-ugh- **gentle** -bypass stun and go straight to-oof-murder. Steve  _ help _ .” Tony gasps between powerful and very affectionate squeezes from their resident god of thunder. Steve takes one look at Tony's wide hopeful eyes and has to hide a smile. “Lotta help you are Steven.” Tony grumbles, kicking his legs some more, managing to work one arm from Thor's grip to flail around ineffectually.

“Tis a day of celebration!” Thor declares, finally setting Tony down.

“Uhh, I'm always down for a party, but what are we celebrating?” Tony wheezes, staggering over to Steve where he pretends not to be putting the supersoldier between himself and their very enthusiastic friend.

“You have won me sole custody of the gaming device for a week, and ten boxes of my favorite Midgardian snacks with your much anticipated union fair shieldbrothers. Long has Steven lusted-” Thor continues on, seemingly oblivious to Steve choking on a cough next to the stove. Beside him, Tony's eyes are slowly growing more round as Thor describes their mutual pining in great and embarrassing detail.

“Thor can you not?” Tony squeaks.

“You will wed of course, it is the only proper course of action.” Thor plows on, undeterred. Tony looks a little like a deer in headlights, but Steve eyes him contemplatively.

Tony is everything about this world he's learned to love, even when it frustrates him to no end. He's fast and now, and modern. He's sharp smiles and soft touches, masks, and truth, and the  _ future.  _ He's bold and both full of fear yet fearless-brave even when he's terrified, and always, always trying to do the best he can, even when that doesn't work out so well.

Steve looks at him and everything falls into place, in a way it's always been there in some corner of his mind; but now in this moment it hits him like a wave of realization.

_ Yes _ . He thinks.  _ I could love you forever. _ He doesn't say it though. It's too soon for such things. Even if they have both loved each other for what seems like lifetimes, and even if Tony looked at him last night and said 'always'. He knows that Tony wouldn't believe a proposal now, but one day-maybe.

 

* * *

 

Their lives blend together seamlessly, mixing and shifting like oil paints on a canvas. In many ways it feels like there has always been a space beside Steve. An open spot that Tony steps into as if he's always been there, because he  _ has.  _ Tony was one of the first people Steve saw when he woke from his long time in the dark. His own personal nightlight bathed in blue. The thought makes him smile when Tony lays in his arms and fills the tower with cool clean light.

He still misses the past terribly. There are nights he wakes in a cold sweat, gasping for breath and reaching for things he will never get back, but Tony is always there to welcome him back-to gentle him down from memories that make him ache with loss.

Once Tony is off on a business trip when it happens, and Steve rolls over in their bed, clutches the pillows to smell Tony's scent on them. It's not enough to wash away the images just behind his lids. The crash of the sound barrier breaking rattles the tower minutes later, and Tony is running into their room shedding armor as he goes; hair disheveled and tie askew. He crawls into bed, not even bothering to take off his shoes.

“I'm here, Steve, I'm here.” He whispers into golden hair, and Steve holds him close and  _ breathes. _

Tony has nightmares too, but he's secretive about it. At first Steve thinks it's because of how private the man can be, but then he realizes it's something deeper, something darker. Tony apologizes the first time Steve wakes him from one-body thrashing as if he has a live wire beneath his skin while he clutches at his chest, at the arc reactor. He's paper white, drenched in sweat, eyes wide and staring, and when Steve touches him he flinches away, curls around himself protectively. It takes almost ten minutes to bring him around.

Afterwards he disappears off for days, locking down the lab and refusing to see anyone. Steve still leaves food by the blacked out doors, and is gratified when he makes another circuit and finds it gone.

“You're still here.” Tony whispers, standing in their doorway three days later. The light of the reactor casts long shadows around the room, they shorten when Tony steps inside, letting the door snick shut behind him.

“Course I am sweetheart, I was waiting for you.” Steve says carefully, sitting up in their bed slowly and holding a coaxing hand out towards his lover, palm up, fingers slightly curled. Brown eyes stare down at the offered hand for a long wordless minute.

“I thought you would leave if you saw.” Tony finally speaks, gaze fixed somewhere to the left.

“I'd never leave you, not for that, never for that. C'mere.” He says, and Tony slips closer; ghostly in the bright light of the arc when he takes off his shirt and crawls into their bed cautiously. Steve sweeps him close, holds him against his chest, rubs his smooth cheek against Tony's stubbled one.

“Steve.” Tony whispers, eyes shut tightly, so Steve wraps them both in the blankets and tumbles Tony beneath him, putting himself between the world and the man he loves.

“I'm here, it's okay, I'm here, I love you.” He repeats Tony's words to himself, echoes them like their own personal prayer, and Tony clings to him, winds himself so closely to Steve it feels like they can never be separated.

It doesn't fix everything of course. Tony still hides away sometimes, closes himself away from everyone, but he does it less and less. They're not flawless at communication, and there are things he knows Tony may never tell him, secrets he holds onto so tightly they may as well be part of his DNA.

The debacle with Arsenal throws that into sharp relief. Steve wants to understand, but Tony is tight lipped about it, shying away and changing the subject whenever it's brought up. The barely veiled sadness in his eyes is what finally convinces Steve to stop asking.

Maybe he should have kept picking at it.

He only realizes when it's too late, and the team is split in two. Tony's absence aches like a bruise. Steve never put much stock into the concept of soulmates, but there's no denying the draw Tony has for him. He misses him like a phantom limb, feels the empty space beside him every time he makes a decision with the team. Being apart from Tony hurts more than anything he's ever experienced. The only thing that makes it bearable is the thought that this isn't permanent. He has no intention of staying at SHIELD indefinitely. Fury seems to know too when he sends their team after the others.

Later when they have reunited, Tony lets Steve back into their rebuilt room and strips the SHIELD uniform from him with shaking hands. Their first kiss that night is like coming back to life, and Steve vows to never let their lines of communication falter again.

“Arsenal is to me what Bucky is to you. I'm sorry that I couldn't put it into words before. I'm so sorry Steve.” Tony says, afterwards, when their skin has cooled where they lay in a nest of pillows and blankets on the floor.

“Don't.” Steve sighs, turning to tangle their legs together. “We both made mistakes, we messed up shellhead.”

“We did.” Tony whispers, eyes fluttering shut when Steve wraps him in a tight hug with one arm, and curls his free-hand in the dogtags around Tony's neck. It's gratifying to know he never took them off, even when they were apart.

“We'll find a way to fix Arsenal, you've helped me with Bucky-” Tony shakes his head, pulling away slightly, but Steve holds him fast, slips his hand away from the tags to tip Tony's head up so their eyes meet. “Let me help, don't hide these things away from me.”

“It's too late, it's done, it's over and he's gone. I'm just sorry you all paid the price for my sentimentality.” Tony mutters, hiding his face against Steve's chest. He thinks of all the things he could say to that, worthless platitudes that won't mean anything to Tony right now. Things that speak of how they have both failed each other in these painful weeks apart. It all rings hollow compared to what he really wants to say.

“I missed you so much.” The admission costs him nothing, it's the truth after all. Tony makes a small wounded sound against his shoulder, lashes wet when he looks up at Steve.

“You're not going back to SHIELD then?” Tony's voice sounds thready, almost choked with repressed emotion, but Steve knows his lover by now.

“I'm here.” He says, kissing Tony between words. “I'm staying, I'm here.”

 

* * *

 

Their wedding is on a Saturday because Tony says it's the party day-and one more rowdy group of revelers won't be noticed among the throngs of nighttime party goers. He's right, and their little ceremony goes completely unnoticed. Their friends' all attend, but it's a small affair, intimate and secret. Something that the public can't touch. Of course it doesn't hurt that the public seems to think they're already married, so no one bats an eye when they show up at a ritzy joint with matching rings.

Later they will read the news and laugh at the headlines- _ Iron Man and Captain America: Power Couple of the Century,  _ and  _ Tony Stark and Steve Rogers; Superheroes, Super Married? _ -are their favorites, but tonight the papers and the gawkers are miles away from Steve's thoughts.

Steve has his moments of old fashioned romantic ideas, it had taken some convincing to get Tony on board, but for a week, the two of them only see each other to fight battles. It makes their wedding day all the better. Tony wears a red suit that still somehow manages to be elegant and understated. If Steve gets a small jolt of satisfaction when he sees the cufflinks are in the shape of his shield that's just between he and Tony.

His own suit is deep blue, a Van Dyne design Jan made herself, woven through with tiny specks of gold thread. It matches the ring Tony slips on his finger, gold titanium alloy inscribed with a promise. He'll wear it tonight, and around the tower, but keep it around a chain for battles. The serum didn't make him immune to degloving after all. Still, for tonight he wouldn't remove it for just about anything.

Sometime in the intervening hours between the ceremony and the after party-which Tony refuses to call a reception-Tony ends up on the opposite side of the lounge. Steve leans against the bar and watches the motion of his lips, the animated gestures of his hands, and the dark swoop of his hair where it has gotten just long enough to curl over his cheek.

He's beautiful and wonderful and  _ real.  _ Better than any fantasy. Even with his vivid imagination, Steve doesn't think he ever could have dreamed up Tony Stark. Their eyes meet across the room, and Tony is at his side a moment later. Steve splays a hand over the small of his back, draws him close. No one but them and the others need know this is their first dance as a married couple. Tony leans their foreheads' together and hums along to the music while they sway in a half familiar dance.

“I love you.” Tony says, just loud enough for Steve to hear. Above them a projector casts a net of stars across the ceiling. Tiny pinpricks of white light reflected in Tony's dark eyes, like that night many months ago when they shared a tent and Steve thought this future an impossible dream. Steve tilts his head to brush his lips in a whisper of a kiss over Tony's cheekbone, then another for Tony's ring finger when he brings their linked hands up to his lips.

“Is this the part where I say I know?” Steve asks, the corners of his lips twitching with a smile. Tony laughs, curling his hand over Steve's neck, fingers playing over the short hair at the nape of his neck in a light touch that makes him shiver.

“If you quote Han Solo to me I may have to do something rash.”

“Rash huh, what kind of rash, because I have a few suggestions for you Shellhead.”

“I might just have to jump you, and I had other plans for our honeymoon.” Tony says, pausing to let his lashes dip in a slow look of invitation. “I'm wearing blue.”

Steve feels himself go hot all over. “Something old, something new, something borrowed-” Steve says against Tony's ear.

“The something blue is the lingerie, but you're the something old, just in case you were wondering.” Tony sounds all too pleased with himself, grinning when Steve leans back to stare at him in equal parts arousal and amusement. Steve kisses him, crushing their mouths together before he can say anything else terrible and enticing.

“Well.” He growls, biting at Tony's lips. “I have the red covered, seemed appropriate, underwear's real uncomfortable though sweetheart I don't know how you stand it.”

That seems to have stunned Tony into momentary speechlessness. He throws his arms around Steve's neck, kissing him even as they stumble from the building into their waiting limo. Steve ends up half carrying, half dragging him into the vehicle as Tony does his concerted best to scale him like a tree. He lands on his back on the plush leather with a soft 'oof', finally parting from Steve to stare up at him with wide dilated eyes.

“Please tell me you're wearing a suspender belt.” He says semi dazedly, Steve smiles, wide and promising.

“Might be, you wearing one too, huh Shellhead?”

“Oh my god.” Tony whispers to himself. “I'm the luckiest man alive.”

“Nah that would be me.” Steve says, leaning down to kiss Tony some more because he gets to, and he wants to.

When they make it to their honeymoon suite, and Tony gives him an extremely talented striptease that ends in a Captain America themed garter belt getting stuck on the ceiling fan. “We’ll worry about that later.” Steve says, spinning Tony down to pin him to the bed, grinning at the sound of Tony's delighted laughter in his ears. “I'm gonna peel that underwear off you with my teeth.” He says seriously.

“Ooh really? Well, Captain America can't tell a lie, chop chop.” Tony says imperiously, indicating said underwear with a wave of his hand.

“That was George Washington.” Steve sighs with fond exasperation, sitting down on Tony's thighs and running his hands over all the warm olive skin laid out before him. Tony shivers, but continues speaking undeterred.

“No founding fathers in the bedroom, only Steve. Besides, I was promised red? Possibly a show?” Tony raises his eyebrows imploringly, hands skating up Steve's chest as he leans over Tony's prone form on the bed.

“Well, wouldn't want to break a promise.” He says, setting about peeling his pants downwards. Tony wheezes a little at the sight of hot rod red lace peeking out from the waistband of his pants.

“I have-” Tony groans, reaching out to grab at Steve's chest “a heart condition, you're going to kill me. Put it on my tombstone: Here lies Tony Stark, murdered by his husband's ridiculous sex appeal and red lingerie.”

“Tony-” He laughs helplessly, gasping as clever fingers creep into the front of his pants.

“No seriously, I'm not long for this world, I'm-ooh, is that silk?” Tony is touching him fully now, fingers curling just right.

“God, Tony, yeah, yeah it's mmm, it's silk lace.” It's difficult to think with the way Tony's hands are moving, tugging his pants further down and driving his need higher and higher.

“Yep, I'm officially on my deathbed, grant me my dying wish?” Tony's eyes are fever bright, sparkling with desire and mischief. He arches beneath Steve, managing a slow roll of their bodies together despite having very little leverage, pinned beneath Steve as he is.

“You are so ridiculous.” Steve groans, hanging his head.

“You love me.”

“I do, and you love me too.” He also grants several of their mutual wishes that night. What can Steve say, he's always been weak for Tony Stark.

 

* * *

 

Married life is really not that different at all from how they lived before. They sleep in Tony's room almost exclusively now though. It's much less likely to be host to middle of the night Avengers shenanigans. Tony has his own floor after all. It's also perfectly acceptable to christen every feasible surface of said penthouse. Steve's never been in better shape, and Tony looks like the cat that got the cream most days. Both of them are deliriously happy, and once not too long ago Steve would probably have stepped back and waited for the other shoe to drop, but his joy at finally having what he's always wanted makes him optimistic.

He should have known life as an Avenger is never so simple. Inhumans, having to go into hiding, all of that is jarring, but Tony remains at his side. They run together, hide together. Their little family remains intact. Even if they're technically criminals now, Steve still goes to sleep at night with Tony's warm weight draped across his chest, or spooned up close. As long as Tony is here, and his team is safe, Steve can't really complain.

Nothing could have prepared them for Ultron's return.

It's his worst nightmare, everything he's feared wrapped into one terrible moment of time. In the end when Strange pulls them into the pocket dimension-in the end he can't even touch Tony to say goodbye. He's confident that they will be able to get him back, confident that Tony's genius will outweigh the caprices of fate as it always has. In the end, when everything has settled, and everyone has gone to their rooms, Steve sits in his empty room-their empty room, and he feels the absence of Tony's hand in his, sharp like the stab of a knife slipped between the ribs.

“I miss you already.” He whispers to the air, he knows with the channel Sam has set up that Tony will hear him. Surely enough, Tony's voice filters in through the speakers set into his ceiling.

“I miss you too Steve.” Tony says softly. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.”

“No, this isn't-wasn't your fault shellhead. We'll get you back okay, just hold on, we'll find a way.” Steve cuts off Tony's self blaming train of thought decisively, before it can take on a life of its own. Tony is going to be alone with his thoughts a lot, it's not a comforting reality. A Tony left on his own has a habit of thinking all the world's problems are somehow his own doing.

“I know, we're Avengers, we don't give up, I'll find a way back to you Steve, honey, I promise.” Tony sounds shaken. He hates being alone, truly alone-no bots or AIs to keep him company. Steve shuts his eyes tightly, turning the covers back and stretching out on the bed.

“Keep talking, even if I fall asleep okay, keep talking to me until you sleep too.” Steve is gratified by the soft sigh of relief from the other end of the speakers.

They speak every night, all through the day, sometimes Steve will be sleeping only to wake to the sound of Tony's harsh breathing. The time alone is not doing him well. It's dragging at him, wearing on his ability to sleep, on everything.

“I miss you so much, miss your touch, god I miss touch so much.” Tony babbles one night, half delirious with sleep deprivation. It takes three hours to soothe him into sleeping that night. Desperation begins to set in with force when Tony wakes him one night in a panic. The dimension is becoming unstable. Suddenly their timetable needs to be moved up. Tony is fantastic, a whirlwind of intelligence and unconventional ideas as he always is. He speaks with Jane Foster, and together, the two of them hatch a plan with Sam to bring him back.

Steve is cautious but ecstatic, the night before they make the attempt, he lays in bed and talks to Tony until the sun is just peeking over the horizon. He only sleeps two hours before waking again to begin the setup. The expo is a terrible idea, Steve has made his thoughts on the matter clear multiple times, but in the end they all cave. Tony is coming back to them after all.

The leader attacks, and all the planning in the world could not have prepared Steve for what it feels like to lose his last thread of connection to Tony. He knows the dimension Tony is in is collapsing, that the likelihood of Tony's survival can be reduced down to a tiny fraction of a decimal point, but he still hopes.

 

* * *

 

Two months after their return from being scattered, Steve declares Tony legally dead. It's the worst day of his life, and Steve has had enough bad days to fill a book.

They hold the funeral on a Tuesday, because Tony always said it was the worst day of the week, and a funeral just added to that instead of ruining a perfectly good day. The red, white, and blue of the flag draped over the coffin, stars over where Tony's left shoulder would sit if they had his body flutters in the early morning breeze. Now, with the casket being lowered into the ground Steve doesn't think  _ any _ day will ever be the same.

The coffin is empty.

Somehow that makes it both better and worse than having a body to bury. Better, because there is still some part of him that refuses to believe Tony is really dead. Without a body it's easier to pretend that Tony will come back to them.

Worse is the thought of Tony having died alone. Steve remembers Tony admitting that he loathed loneliness, how much he missed friendly touch in the long months he spent in Afghanistan. His voice had sounded so small, as if the admission was one he hadn't wanted to make. Worse still is the way he sounded while missing Steve's touch while in the pocket dimension. Steve can't dwell on that thought long, it's too painful, too raw.

People stand to speak about the man he loves, will always love-but Steve can't hear them over the rushing in his ears. Beside him, Natasha takes his hand. He thinks at some point he speaks too, but everything seems unreal, as if he's detached from his body and is just watching himself go through the motions from far away. When the folded flag is passed into his keeping the woven fabric feels dead in his hands, numbness seeping inwards to lodge somewhere just behind his heart. Steve clutches it close and imagines that somewhere Tony is laughing about Maria Hill having said nice things about him.

“C'mon Cap, let's go home.” Clint says carefully, after the service is done. In the distance he can see a massive crowd of people beyond roped off police lines.

“Yeah. Let's get out of here.” He says, suddenly unable to be here any longer. Too many eyes, too many people prying into his grief like knives into an oyster shell.

When they get to the compound Bucky is there, standing between them and the entrance to the building. Another ghost Steve can't forget, but at least he's alive. Still, Steve feels the breath freeze in his chest painfully when Bucky steps close.

“I'm sorry.” Bucky whispers.

He stays with them for a few fleeting days, and then he's gone, a ghost again. This time Steve doesn't chase him, he'll be back, maybe this time for good.

 

* * *

 

The compound is not the same as the tower, but Tony made any space home. Without him here Steve sees no reason to acquire any more personal effects. An easel sits in the corner of the room, a sheet thrown over it to cover a painting he will never finish. He knows if he lifts the cover Tony will be there, a wide smile on his face, sunlight bringing out the bronze flecks in his eyes. It feels wrong to work on it now, somehow perverse to render Tony smiling and happy when Steve couldn't save him. He swallows thickly, slipping the ring from around his finger and turning it over and over in his hands, cool titanium gold forged from a piece of scrapped armor. Steve knows the word inscribed on it without looking:  _ Together.  _ It seems almost a cruel irony that Tony chose his inscription only to be torn away from him across time and space.

There is a weight around his shoulders, a ring around his neck, a vast yawning chasm where his dogtags used to sit; empty and aching, heavier than the band of gold around his ring finger. Two weeks into their relationship, two glorious weeks and Steve had placed them around Tony's neck. The glitter of Tony's eyes that night is etched into his memory. A soft moment tucked between their heartbeats, backlit by the city, shades of neon catching on the silver chain. The curve of Tony's smile had been so soft, uncertain, like newly bloomed flowers-delicate and easy to bruise.

He remembers now, sitting as he is in their dark room, staring at himself in the floor length mirror at the foot of the bed _ -their bed. _ The lights of the compound are bright, but it still looks dark to him. No cool blue light reflected in tall window panes, emanating from within their room with starry radiance. Natasha bought him a blue nightlight several days ago, but he crushed it when he woke from a nightmare and thought Tony was back mistakenly.

Tony always comes back after all.

That night in the half aware spaces between true wakefulness and sleep anything seemed possible. Tony isn't back though, is never coming back. His grief then was swift and sharp. Sitting on the floor cradling broken shards of blue plastic without even the energy to care his hands were bleeding Steve felt something within himself shatter. In many ways he feels like that breaking is still happening-cracks snaking deeper, stretching further like the runs in Peggy's stockings. Things he's lost, people he will never see again, the red of Peggy's lips, the promise inscribed on the interior of Tony's wedding band. All gone but for the snapshot of his memories.

Still, there are parts of Steve that hold out hope. Parts that still roll over and touch the empty side of the bed in the morning, parts that still wake up at three with the fleeting thought to go get Tony out of the lab, parts that still expect Tony to come strolling back into their lives as if he never left. Maybe it's not healthy, and maybe he should be moving onto the acceptance part of the grieving process, but Steve doesn't care. That tiny sliver of hope gets him out of bed in the mornings. It helps him stand under the weight of all the things he's lost. It's just enough to let him put on a brave face and focus on the mission. Whether that happens to be getting lunch or taking on a supervillain.

Tony would probably laugh, shake his head, and say something witty about all this. Maybe something like  _ What, did you miss me that much _ ? With that sly smile of his, and the sparkle in brown eyes that means nothing but mischief.

Or maybe not.

Steve has enough presence of mind to realize he's failing at his promise. It feels lifetimes ago now, a moment he goes back to time and time again in the dark hours between laying down and actually falling asleep.

“ _ Here's the thing-” Tony says matter of factly  “you're going to outlive me.” He's swathed in bandages from his chest down to his hips. A souvenir earned fighting Hyperion and Zarda. A blow meant for Steve that never connected. Steve feels the breath still in his chest. _

“ _ Tony, what? You can't know that, any day, any fight could be it for me.” _

“ _ Disregarding that, your cells, they oxidize at an incredibly slow rate-your telomeres are fucking mind boggling is all I’m saying.” Tony continues as if Steve hasn't spoken, gaze drifting to some point along the ceiling. _

“ _ Tony” He tries again, only to stop when brown eyes fix on his face, fierce, determined, and not backing down. _

“ _ So even if we never have another fight, you age exponentially more slowly than your average Joe, or your average Tony Stark.” He's speaking softly, but the words still hit Steve sharply, harsh, like someone reached into his chest and took hold of his heart. Something must show on his face, because Tony's eyes soften, and he lets Steve bundle him close, hissing under his breath when that jostles sore injuries. He bats away Steve's concern however, sagging tiredly when Steve kisses the the top of his head and rubs soothing circles over the tense muscles of Tony's back. “Well unless I perfect this thing I've been working on which would make me a better technomancer than MODOK but would also sort of make me a cyborg...” _

“ _ A cyborg?” Steve feels like this maybe needs more explanation. _

“ _ Yes Steven, a cyborg. Would you still love me if I became a cyborg?” Tony asks, eyes crinkling with mischief, but Steve knows enough about his husband to see real curiosity there. _

“ _ I'd love you no matter what, 'til death do us part, not a quitter-but if you get all mechanical parts does that mean we'd have to start using engine oil instead of lube?” Steve tries for innocent wonder and novelty, but Tony sees right through him, laughter sputtering out of him until they're both laughing. _

“ _ Ow,  _ **_ow_ ** _ , you, you jerk, oh my god. Don't make me laugh, ow.” Tony groans, leaning his head on Steve's shoulder, sighing contentedly when Steve resumes rubbing his back. “I meant what I said though.” Tony murmurs after they've both calmed. Steve's hand falters on Tony's left shoulder. _

“ _ That's not going to happen, I won't let it.” Maybe he's being obstinate, maybe it's not realistic, but contemplating his life without Tony feels just as painful as waking from a seventy year sleep. _

“ _ Steve.” Tony sighs out, sitting up to look at him searchingly. _

“ _ I can't think that way, you don't really think-” Steve's voice cracks, and Tony reaches up, cradling the smooth curve of his cheek against his palm. Dark golden eyes trace his features, and Tony smooths the callused pad of his thumb just over the trembling corner of his mouth. _

“ _ Shh, it's okay, I just want you to promise me something.” Tony says, his tone coaxing, leaning in to brush their lips together. Gazing into Tony's eyes, there's really nothing he won't promise him, so he leans their foreheads together and nods jerkily. _

“ _ What am I promising you, gonna let me know?” _

“ _ If I uh..depart before you I want you to promise me that you'll keep living. No self destructive heroics, no isolating yourself, and no blaming yourself.” He puts it so gently. A blade wrapped in silk is still a blade though. Steve was braced for it, but it hurts regardless. _

“ _ I don't know Tony, could you take the same oath?” He whispers. Tony's arms go around him, he clings tightly, rubs his face against the juncture of Steve's shoulder and neck. _

“ _ That's not fair.” _

“ _ It isn't, but it's what you're asking of me sweetheart.” _

“ _ The first time I split us up, you remember-of course you remember.” Tony goes quiet, biting the inside of his cheek until Steve squeezes him a little more tightly. “It was because I couldn't protect you all, and I promised myself, I promised that if it had to be someone it would be me.” It's almost too soft to hear, but Steve does anyway. _

_ It's not entirely a surprise. He thinks of the times Tony has thrown himself into danger, thrown himself in front of the Avengers; tossed himself into the jaws of death so they will never have to feel the teeth. To some people it might seem like arrogance, or recklessness, but Steve knows this man now better than any outsider. Tony's greatest fear is losing their little dysfunctional family. Once he understood that, everything sort of fell into place. It's incredible to be loved so strongly, but it also makes Steve want to shake him just a little bit. _

“ _ Doesn't have to be you, could be me, could be any of us, c'mon shellhead I can do this all day.” _

“ _ Just promise me Steve, darling, don't fight me on this.” Tony sounds so exhausted it borders on pain, so Steve lays back on the pillows and cradles him close. _

“ _ I promise.” He whispers, into Tony's hair. “I promise.” _

He should have known Tony would be right. He can almost hear him, see him in the lab, half turned towards Steve with a grin of self satisfied triumph.

“Of course I'm right.” He'd say. “I'm a futurist.”  The thought of Tony's smile lifts his spirits for a moment, but that too fades.  Only the sound of an urgent call for Assembly gets him out of his room and running toward the jet.  This at least he can do.

 


End file.
